


Almavivo

by leporidae



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M, Slow Burn, side victuuri but it's not the focus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2018-01-18
Packaged: 2018-09-03 00:56:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 42,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8690320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leporidae/pseuds/leporidae
Summary: Even for someone as stoic and analytical as Seung-gil Lee, the warmth of Phichit Chulanont is impossible to resist.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Starting something else when I have a lot on my plate to write this month is probably not a good idea. And yet here I am doing it anyway.

It all starts with a question and a subsequent answer that is ignored. 

 _Would you like to come out to eat with us?_  

 _Absolutely not._  

And yet despite his refusal, here he is nonetheless, at dinner - and experiencing what feels like the worst double date of his life.

* * *

Unsurprisingly, Seung-gil Lee has never actually been on _any_ kind of date, much less a double one. Between his constantly pissed expression exacerbated by angry eyebrows, his complete inability to connect with women, and a terminally cold and calculating personality, Seung-gil is not a man people clamor to engage with romantically. 

And Seung-gil rejects romance as vehemently as it rejects him. Every experience he's had with it has left a foul taste in his mouth, but his loathing had reached a new high during the Rostelecom Cup, in which he had been forced to watch Yuuri Katsuki and Victor Nikiforov fawn over each other in public like doe-eyed idiots while Michele Crispino ogled his sister like the fucking incestuous creep he was. 

Romances, much like people in general, were shit. End of discussion. 

Which is why when Phichit Chulanont had invited him out to dinner along with Yuuri and Victor, Seung-gil had said no, and meant it. Phichit had heard his  _no_ , said "That's too bad!", laughed with amusement at Seung-gil's petulant attitude - 

And somehow managed to drag him along to dinner anyway. 

They're at a Japanese restaurant, which delights all of them but Seung-gil of course - not that he's ever  _delighted_  by much of anything. Phichit recommends the gyuudon as a safe choice when he sees Seung-gil squinting over the menu and painstakingly analyzing his choices much like he would a skating program, and while it admittedly smells amazing when the server places it in front of him, there's a problem. 

On top of the rice lies a smattering of thinly sliced green loops that look to be some sort of scallion. 

Seung-gil hates vegetables almost as much as he hates the other sight currently before his eyes (drunken Victor Nikiforov). Celery tastes like sand, lettuce has the consistency of human skin skin, peppers are unnaturally rubbery and bitter like biting into a bike tire - he could go on and on, but the current problem right now is the scallions, which decidedly fall into the "taste like sand" category. He snaps his wooden chopsticks, lip curling when they don't break even and he has to pick off shards of wood that could splinter off and prick him later. How troublesome. The metal chopsticks common at Korean restaurants are clearly the superior specimen when compared to the Japanese wooden variety, but even his annoyance at the chopsticks can't distract him from his disgust about the scallions. 

"Are you all right?" comes the chirp of a concerned voice next to him, and Seung-gil almost -  _almost_  jumps, startled out of his own negative thoughts. But that would be grossly undignified, of course. Instead he just turns away from Phichit moodily - only to be faced with the unpleasant scene of a heavily flushed Victor planting kiss after kiss on Yuuri's equally red cheeks. 

Seung-gil clears his throat and turns back to Phichit, defeated. "I'm fine," he says stiffly, thick eyebrows knitting together to further punctuate the statement. 

"Is something wrong with the food?" 

No answer. 

Much to his dismay, Phichit laughs lightly. "Is it the scallions? You’re looking at them like they’re gonna catch on fire or something." 

A sentiment close to embarrassment begins to bubble within Seung-gil, but he keeps his voice steady. "I don't like vegetables," he admits flatly, ready as usual for the other boy to mock him so that he may ignore the teasing and get along with his solitary life. 

Instead, Phichit gazes at him with - is that sympathy? Understanding, even? - and reaches over with his own chopsticks, plucking out the offending vegetables with a lopsided grin plastered to his face. "Ah, gotcha! I'll eat them for you, then." And suddenly Phichit Chulanont, dignified figure skater, has his cheeks stuffed with scallions, looking very much like a rabbit nibbling on lettuce.

Seung-gil snorts. 

"I put too much in my mouth at once, didn't I?" Phichit asks apologetically once he's swallowed. "Sorry, I get overexcited. And I didn't even ask before I reached across the table. I must seem pretty uncivilized right about now, don't I?" 

"At least you're not sucking face in public," Seung-gil says dully, and indeed Victor's cheek kissing has since transformed into a full on make out session between him and Yuuri, complete with the accompanying nauseating, soggy noises. Seung-gil makes a soft _tch_ sound between his teeth, but it’s not enough to drown out the offending sound of affection needlessly assaulting his ears. 

Phichit laughs, seemingly unbothered by the couple. "That's true. Oh, I almost forgot -" He grabs his phone from where it lies face down on the table and lifts it above his own bowl of food to take a snapshot. "For Instagram," Phichit clarifies, his thumbs thrumming rapid fire on his screen as he captions the photo. "Speaking of which, you should use yours more." 

Almost all the members of the figure skating community have Instagram accounts and follow each other, though Seung-gil doesn’t use or check his very often. Phichit is by far the most frequent poster, followed perhaps by Leo and Guang Hong, who both look up to Phichit and follow his actions like obedient ducklings. Michele posts a disturbing number of photos of Sara, the discomfort of which is rivaled only by the seemingly endless shirtless selfies posted by JJ and Chris. And as of late, Yuuri and Victor have flooded their feeds with sappy couple photos. All in all, engaging in that particular social media platform is not a particularly rewarding experience. 

"Keeping up is exhausting," is all Seung-gil says, placing a piece of beef in his mouth and chewing moodily. 

"You have a cute dog," Phichit insists, nudging Seung-gil's shoulder lightly. "You should post more pictures of you with him. Him? Her?" 

"Him." 

“What kind of dog is he?” 

“A Siberian Husky.” 

“Oh, those are cute! Well, I don't know that much about dogs in general," Phichit confesses. "The only pet I've ever owned was a hamster. Oh, but I guess Yuuri's little poodle was pretty cute. He showed me pictures on his phone all the time when we used to train together."

Seung-gil shrugs. “They're very active and energetic. And popular.” He could probably go on about dog breeds for the rest of the evening if he allowed himself to board that train of thought, but he already felt exhausted from the outing and hardly knew Phichit. No sense in portraying himself like some sort of obsessive dog person, or he’d wind up with a tragic public image like that of Yuri Plisetsky, whose young fans had recently taken to adorning him with cat ears after his performances. Seung-gil would like to avoid a similar fate if possible.

Phichit nods encouragingly. "He's really cute, I bet you'd get loads of likes." 

"I don't care about likes," Seung-gil says, taking another bite of rice before continuing. "And why do I need to be in the photos with my dog? If I need likes as you say, isn't the dog enough?" 

"No, it's better when you're in the photo with the dog," Phichit insists. "You both have that same stern expression, it totally adds to the charm. You know that whole trend online of pictures of people who look like their pets, right? People go crazy for that stuff." 

 _Charm?_  Seung-gil grunts noncommittally. Why is he engaging in this conversation again in the first place?  _Oh, right - to drown out the gross sounds of two lovestruck idiots. Come to think of it, if I hadn't accepted this damn invitation in the first place, I wouldn't have had to listen to any of it. I should give Phichit a piece of my -_  

"Sorry about all that," Phichit says, gesturing vaguely in the direction of Victor and Yuuri. "I'm used to it, 'cause Yuuri's my friend, and I've gone out with them before, but - are you uncomfortable?" 

It surprises him that Phichit would even notice. "Why do you care?" he snaps back, a bit too defensively. 

Phichit looks startled, and a bit hurt. "You always seemed a bit distant from the others, and I invited you here to get to know each other better. So I feel kinda bad if you're not enjoying yourself..." 

There's something so raw and honest in Phichit's words that Seung-gil feels a twang of unease deep in his gut. Could it be guilt? But what reason did he have to feel guilty? "I don't like being around couples acting shameless in public," he admits. "But that's not your fault, so - whatever." 

Phichit hums thoughtfully. "Let's eat faster so that we can get out of here then, how's that sound?" 

 _What's this_ we  _business?_ Seung-gil doesn't know what to do with this foreign consideration for his feelings, so he merely nods and accepts it. "Very well." 

The two cease talking after that, focusing instead on their food. The gyuudon is admittedly delicious, especially since Phichit had relieved him of the awkwardness of picking out the vegetables, and Victor has gone from affectionate to sleepy, which in turn calms down the romantic fervor of their companions. All in all, Seung-gil finds himself feeling strangely content around someone his own age for the first time in a while. Most people are either too noisy, too immature, too frivolous, some combination of the three - or worse. Phichit, in contrast, strikes a rare balance of friendliness without acting overbearing, even if his fixation on social media is, in Seung-gil's eyes, a bit vain and distasteful. 

Yuuri and Victor leave first, Victor clinging to his boyfriend's shoulders while Yuuri mumbles a mortified apology to Phichit and Seung-gil. Phichit just laughs and tells Yuuri to make sure he gets home safely, and Seung-gil wonders how one person can be so patient. 

As they exist the restaurant, Seung-gil feels a tug on his sleeve, and looks over to see Phichit’s mischievous gaze gleaming at him, much like that of a cat about to push a glass of water off a table. He tenses, bracing himself for whatever is about to be asked of him. 

"One selfie? For my Instagram? Just to prove that we hung out."

"Why do you need proof of that?"

Phichit stares at him stubbornly. 

Seung-gil sighs, a drawn out and melodramatic exhalation. "Fine." 

Phichit grins and whips out his phone, switching to the front camera with a tap of his thumb and centering the photo to include both of them and the restaurant’s signage behind them. Seung-gil is almost impressed by the ease with which Phichit creates his photo’s composition, positioning their faces at a decent angle while still adorning the photo with a pretty backdrop. Of course, Phichit has had so much practice posting selfies that it’s hardly surprising it comes second nature to him. 

The Thai skater raises his left hand in a peace sign and gently nudges Seung-gil to do the same. He feels a bit ridiculous but complies without complaint, though his neutral expression still looks rather out of place next to Phichit’s brilliant smile. Phichit lowers his phone once he’s taken the photo, and beams at Seung-gil. “Nice! I’ll put a pretty filter on it before I post it, too.” 

 _Like I care,_ Seung-gil thinks, but stops himself before the words leave his mouth. “Don’t draw anything on my face,” he mutters instead. 

Phichit laughs. “Don’t worry, I won’t. Thanks for indulging me, though! Instagram’s like a photo journal to me. I like keeping track of where I’ve been and who I was with. Maybe we can hang out again sometime later this week? Take more pictures together?” 

Seung-gil shrugs awkwardly. 

“I’ll text you if something fun comes up, all right?” 

“Sure,” Seung-gil replies curtly, unsure of what else to say. 

The two part ways, and Seung-gil is left with the strange sense that he should have taken a commemorative photo of his own. 

Hours later, lying on his stomach in bed as he prepares for sleep, Seung-gil opens the Instagram app to like Phichit’s photo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope these two actually meet at some point so this doesn't wind up being a total crackship. Either way, I really appreciate the potential of their dynamic, so I wanted to take a crack at writing it.
> 
> I'm proud to say I have no idea where I'm going with this, other than that I wanted to write for them because I like them, and there's so much victuuri fic already that I wanted to contribute to a smaller tag. But it will go somewhere... probably. I at least have some vague ideas about setting that I'll expand upon when I update, and Leo and Guang Hong will most likely be making appearances as well.
> 
> (Seung-gil's disgust for vegetables will always make me laugh. Writing about it made me think of Tokyo Ghoul for whatever reason? That wasn't intentional though.)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sweats a little because people have actually been reading this apparently... I don't think I've ever written anything for such an active fandom before so I'm unintentionally putting extra pressure on myself. And don't let the kudos fool you, I still have no idea what I'm doing. Well, I have some ideas, but I'm mostly just winging it and that's new for me because I usually block out fics before I write them.

_yuuri told me theres some kind of ninja castle around here?_

_ive never visited him at home before so im excited to check it out!_

_im gonna go look around with leo and guang hong later, sometime this afternoon?_

_wanna come with?_

Seung-gil stares at his phone. The night before, Phichit had said he would text him if something came up, but Seung-gil hadn’t been expecting such a fast turnaround. And what kind of outing was a “ninja castle,” anyway? It sounded like some sort of tourist nonsense the people of Hasetsu had invented to bring in revenue. Logically, there's nothing to be gained from going, since he’s not interested.

Unfortunately, he’s also rather bored, so there’s not much to lose, either.

_I’ll come along._

Seung-gil contemplates the message for a while before sending it. It doesn’t seem too eager - just the right amount of acknowledgement to seem neutral without coming across as rude. Much like his skating programs, Seung-gil is always analyzing his words and actions, so that he may put forth as little effort as possible in social situations while still appearing passable.

 _great!_ _ill see you there!!!_

Still the question nags at the back of his mind: why, if he’s acting  _calculatedly_ neutral, is Phichit so excited to have him along?

* * *

Seung-gil is in Hasetsu because his coach had believed the international publicity will be good for him, and he had begrudgingly agreed if only to get her off his back. Nothing more, nothing less.

They’re gathered here because Yuri Plisetsky and Yuuri Katsuki had taken the top two spots on the podium during this year’s Grand Prix. Considering the skaters who had made it to the finals, it’s not a result Seung-gil is particularly displeased with, since he can’t help but want to vomit at the thought of Jean-Jacques Leroy having won instead (or _King JJ_ as he calls himself – aren't Canadians supposed to be humble?) - though it still pisses him off that a young prodigy like Yuuri Plisetsky had taken gold when he himself hadn’t even been able to place _anything_ in the Rostelecom Cup. No amount of analysis changes the fact that all three of them are objectively better skaters than he is, that they not only had more challenging programs, but more charisma, and that especially is something Seung-gil has always severely lacked.

After Yuuri's near-win, Victor had gone back to Hasetsu with him to nevertheless celebrate with his friends and family. But Victor Nikiforov was never satisfied with events on a small and personal scale – he always had to go bigger and better than ever before, to surprise the world and help his student (and lover) do the same in future competitions. He had invited the skaters that had participated in this year’s tournament alongside Yuuri to celebrate the end of the season with them in Hasetsu, much like the publicity stunt he had pulled back when Yuuri Katsuki and Yuri Plisetsky had faced off under the guise of a _Hot Springs Battle on Ice_ or whatever the hell he'd called it. It was Victor’s way of both congratulating Yuuri and motivating him for future seasons in the way he knew how: by bringing together his friends and colleagues and give them all a chance to train together without being under the pressure of competition (not to mention the revenue it would bring to the Katsuki family's onsen). In Seung-gil’s eyes, the whole idea seemed like a sickeningly sweet, self-indulgent honeymoon. Why would the skaters who had lost to Yuuri want to spend time with him while still nursing the wounds of their losses?

Yet somehow the idea of the mass gathering had caught on and spread. As usual, when Victor Nikiforov wills an event like this one into existence, there's no stopping its momentum. Even after his retirement from the sport himself, his influence in the world of figure skating is matched by no one. After all, he's a living legend who contributed to the successes of both the gold and silver Grand Prix medalists during his first ever off season as a coach. Some of his fans might even describe Victor as a magical force in the world of skating.

(Seung-gil knows it has nothing to do with magic. It’s just _charisma_ yet again, that frustrating quality that might as well _be_ magic considering how unattainable it is for him.)

Seung-gil’s coach had practically forced him to participate. Everyone else seemed enthusiastic about the idea of a skating social event, where the competitors got to know each other better and the press could all gather in one place to interview skaters from around the world. Admittedly, it would be rather rude if he was the only person who didn’t show up. But who could blame him for resisting? Traveling to Hasetsu would mean having to deal with Michele Crispino, Christophe Giacometti, Georgi Popovich, and Jean-Jacques Leroy all in once place – perhaps the four most insufferable drama kings to ever sully the face of the planet. In the end, though, he had caved, albeit moodily.

Once he had arrived and moved his belongings into his hotel room – all the while filled with wistful longing for the dog he'd left at home – Seung-gil had made an immediate decision to socialize as little as possible, _screw what his coach wanted_. If he heard the other skaters were visiting some local restaurant in a group, he would eat elsewhere. Alone. _Peacefully_. And he had truly meant to stick to that plan.

But circumstances of life always seemed to get in the way of his desire for solitude. Because even though Seung-gil didn’t know the boy personally, the first thing he had learned about Phichit Chulanont was that his enthusiasm makes it extremely difficult to say no to him.

Even when it comes to something as distasteful as an invitation to a group dinner.

* * *

Seung-gil bundles up and meets the others in front of the castle, which is quite pretty despite the gimmicky description Phichit had used in his text: _ninja castle_. When Phichit spots him, he waves cheerfully, and Leo and Guang Hong follow suit. Scowl deepening, Seung-gil buries his hands in the pockets of his jacket and crinkles his nose at the overly enthusiastic trio. His attitude seems to put off the younger boys; Guang Hong glances away nervously before returning to his conversation with Leo, and Leo merely shrugs apologetically at Seung-gil before doing the same.

Phichit, however, cannot be deterred by anything, not even Seung-gil's - as Sara Crispino had so _tactfully_ referred to it - "resting bitch face." “I’m really glad you showed up,” he gushes, then hooks an arm around Seung-gil’s shoulder. The Korean boy flinches, almost as startled as he had been when Yuuri Katsuki had suddenly embraced him after the Rostelecom Cup, and equally unsure how to react. “We’re all here now, so let’s take a picture in front of the castle!”

Obediently Leo and Guang Hong cram themselves in next to Seung-gil, sandwiching him between their bodies and Phichit’s and effectively cutting off any potential escape route. Seung-gil exhales loudly, resigning himself to the fate of having to star in many, _many_ pictures as long as Phichit is around, and he even makes a concerted effort to keep his face less angry than usual as Phichit snaps a few photos from multiple angles and with various filters. Eventually when he’s satisfied he lets go of Seung-gil, and the four of them continue exploring the castle grounds. Leo and Guang Hong are in the lead, lost in their own conversation and taking selfies for their own accounts, and Phichit, for whatever unfathomable reason, hangs back to talk to Seung-gil.

“He may not look it,” Phichit is saying, gesturing in front of them to Guang Hong and lowering his voice conspiratorially, “but he’s actually quite passionate underneath all that shyness. His short program was all about taking a bullet – an actual _bullet!_ – for Leo. I was surprised when he told me about it – that’s some pretty dark subject matter for someone that young, don’t you think? And some pretty intense loyalty, considering he's a kid, yeah?”

“Mm,” is all Seung-gil says. For him, creating programs is about superficial audience appeal and technical difficulty; plot is never something that factors in much.

“Anyone in your life you’d take a bullet for, Seung-gil?” Phichit asks with a teasing nudge.

He considers for a beat. “My dog,” Seung-gil answers honestly, fully prepared to take the brunt of the other's teasing.

Instead Phichit chuckles. “Nothing wrong with that. I think it’s sweet.”

Seung-gil blinks. “I guess.” 

“I did a little reading about huskies last night after we talked,” Phichit continues. “That’s the kind of dog you have, right?”

“Yes,” Seung-gil says, surprised the other would go to the effort to look them up at all. “Why the sudden interest?”

Phichit shrugs. “Just curious, since you seemed to speak so highly of them. They're sled dogs, aren't they? And they're so pretty - especially their eyes.”

Seung-gil nods. “They’re a good breed,” he says after a lull. Is he supposed to say anything more than that? Keeping the flow of conversation moving has never been one of his strengths. He doesn’t like answering questions, and he doesn’t ever know what to ask in return. The jeering voice of Sara invades his memories - _y_ _ou must be_ so _fun at dinner parties_ \- and Seung-gil grits his teeth to will it away.

Phichit looks thoughtful, and Seung-gil can practically see the gears turning in his mind as he tries to figure out a way to continue the conversation. “I enjoyed watching your skating programs at the Rostelecom Cup,” he says finally.

 _So we’ve already run out of things to say to each other that don’t involve skating, huh?_ Strangely, Seung-gil finds himself a bit disappointed by that - not that he can offer any other topics. “Thank you,” he says flatly.

“I liked the costume you chose, too! It was really flashy and colorful. It doesn’t seem to fit your personality at all, but that’s what made it so eye-catching – at least, that’s what I thought, anyway.”

Even now, thinking about the results of the Rostelecom Cup in any capacity – if one could even call his pitiful performance _results_ – dredges up quite a bit of Seung-gil’s internal bitterness. “You’re the one who took first at your event,” Seung-gil replies curtly, simply because he has no idea how to respond to what he thinks is a compliment. And like the plot of his program, he hadn’t given much thought to the costume.

Phichit blinks. “Well – yeah, I guess that’s true. But I still really enjoyed watching everybody else! Although it was kinda scary too, because everyone’s so talented.” He laughs lightly. “Seung-gil, have you ever watched _The King and the Skater?”_

Seung-gil thinks. “That’s a movie, is it not? The one that inspired your programs?” It was one of the few themes that had stood out to him as he watched the livestream of the Cup of China. Most everyone else seemed to be focused on relationships, love, or sex appeal in their programs - which was quite frankly a bit tiresome. Whatever appeal Seung-gil apparently exudes during his own routines is purely unintentional; all he ever intends through his skating is to lose himself on the ice, cleanly executing his routines and scoring as many points as possible. At one point his coach had told him that some of his fans actually _appreciate_ his perpetually stoic expression when he skates, but what others think of him has never been his concern.

Regardless, it had been refreshing to watch Phichit skate, inspired not by lust or another person, but simply by the sport itself. He had a particular aura of freedom surrounding him when he was on the ice, and his excitement for the sport was contagious.  Though Seung-gil is much the opposite outwardly, he can actually relate to Phichit’s motivation. After all, he isn't in the sport for the fans, or for his image, or to boost his sex appeal – he simply appreciates the adrenaline of pulling off a well-executed routine in front of an audience, a rush you can't experience anywhere else.

Phichit nods so enthusiastically that Seung-gil finds himself growing concerned about the elasticity of the other’s neck. “Yeah, that’s the one! Have you seen it?”

“I haven’t, I’m afraid.” Seung-gil shakes his head.  “I’m not much for movies.”

“It’s worth watching even if you’re not, trust me,” Phichit says, eyes glinting with the devotion of a fanatic. “Do you know anything about it? I don’t want to go on about the plot if you already know about it.” Phichit’s body begins to bounce the more he gushes, and Seung-gil feels the corner of his lips twitch with – _is that amusement?_ Just the idea causes Seung-gil’s brow to furrow into a deeper scowl, as if his body is rebelling against the positive thought that had just invaded his consciousness.

“I assume it’s about a skater.”

Phichit chuckles, and Seung-gil realizes that the other has mistakenly interpreted his matter-of-fact remark as an attempt at humor. “That, and so much more. It starts off with the main character feeling a lack of motivation, which is common in athletes I guess, so it's relatable, but it's also so much more beyond that, and –“ Phichit cuts himself off with another laugh. “Okay, I better stop, or I’ll wind up spoiling the whole thing! I just get way too enthusiastic about it, that movie really means a lot to me. I've seen it so many times, and it just never gets old.”

“I don’t mind if you... spoil it,” Seung-gil says awkwardly. “I probably won’t watch it anyway…”

“Really?” For a fraction of a second, Phichit looks legitimately disappointed, and there’s that inexplicable _guilt_ feeling again, the one that makes Seung-gil so damn uncomfortable for reasons he can’t seem to figure out. Then he brightens. “Oh, hey, you know what? I actually have that movie with me. I carry it with me when I travel - sometimes I watch it on the plane to motivate myself before a competition. I’d totally watch it with you again, if you’d be up for that. It's a really good movie.”

“I don’t know,” Seung-gil mumbles, but he can already feel his willpower crumbling away yet again, and it irritates him.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Phichit adds a bit more softly, in that same understanding tone he’d used the night before when Seung-gil had admitted to disliking vegetables. “But I thought maybe you’d enjoy it, just because there’s some cool skating stuff in it, even if you think the plot is silly. I got Yuuri to watch it with me back in Detroit, and he really liked it, too! Though – I don’t know if it’d really be your cup of tea…”

“I’ll watch it with you.”

It’s one of the few decisions in his life that has been spontaneous rather than calculated. The words feel foreign, out of character even, as they leave his lips, and Seung-gil has a brief, oddly terrifying sense that he’s falling, that he’s lost some foothold on his definition of normalcy that he might never be able to regain. Agreeing to watch a movie with a stranger? He would have scoffed at the idea not a day prior, deemed the act of social bonding useless, and reprimanded himself for even considering it.

“Ah – really? Great! Maybe sometime this week when we’re both free, then?”

Despite his misgivings, when Phichit’s face lights up and he positively _beams_ up at Seung-gil, he gets the peculiar sense that he’s made the right decision.

“All right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly forced excuse to have everybody together, but hey, I'm upset by Seung-gil being knocked out of the competition, so I'll make as many forced excuses as I want. Plus Victor does all sorts of ridiculous things, so I can justify it somewhat.
> 
> Also I don't think I'll ever update a fic this fast again as long as I live.
> 
> (I edited this chapter belatedly to reflect the actual results of the anime because originally I assumed Yuuri was going to take gold. Forget the original version even existed.)
> 
> I also wrote a side fic drabble about Leo and Guang Hong's meetup before this chapter. You can read it here if you're so inclined: http://archiveofourown.org/works/9257036


	3. Chapter 3

It’s windy the following morning, the sharp cold of the air prickling Seung-gil’s cheeks and tickling his eyelashes. Despite the weather, some unfamiliar form of restlessness has taken root in the skater’s soul, and he can’t think of any way to alleviate it other than burning it out with an early morning jog. Normally when he gets in one of these moods he’d skate away the jitters, but there’s nowhere private he can practice in Hasetsu (he physically _shudders_ at the thought of running into JJ at the rink this early in the morning and being forced to listen to him gloat or sing that absolutely awful song he’d commissioned about himself), and he’s not even sure the rink is open at this hour.

A misty cloud of his breath fans out in front of him as he jogs, but he pays no attention to the scenery around him, too absorbed by bitter memories of the Rostelecom Cup, of the points he’d lost falling during his triple axel and the steps he’d flubbed during his free skate as well. Over and over he rehashes and recalculates the numbers, trying to envision a scenario in which he _had_ moved on. Perhaps if he had executed two flawless programs, or if one of the other skaters had run out of stamina or botched a jump or stumbled during their step sequence – nothing would have been more satisfying than watching JJ plow face first into the ice in front of all the fans he claimed worshipped him, or –

“Ah – Seung-gil?”

Of course he’s not alone out here – why would he be? Why would this godawful planet ever allow him even five seconds of the solitude he so desires? Seung-gil slows to a halt and turns to face the other person on the path alongside him. “Why are you following me?”

Yuuri blinks. “Ah – um, no, it’s not like that, I usually come this way when I go for a run. I can go somewhere else if you want –”

“I don’t care,” Seung-gil interrupts, kicking idly at the ground with the toe of one shoe.

It takes a moment for Yuuri to regain his composure. “Oh – okay. I see. As long as you’re sure…” Seung-gil squints at him. How is this nervous man the same person who had openly seduced Victor Nikiforov on ice in front of thousands of people? Love certainly does strange things to those affected by it – which further proves his point that it’s a superfluous emotion and should be avoided at all costs. “Um, I’m sorry about the other night, at dinner – sometimes Victor just gets really carried away, and it’s hard to stop him, but – I really didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I was glad you came along at all, and then I barely talked to you, which wasn’t very hospitable of me, so, um –”

“That’s your business,” Seung-gil interrupts, already tired of listening to Yuuri’s apologies. He just wants to run and to be left alone. “I should have expected it when I agreed to come.”

Now Yuuri is plainly distressed, and Seung-gil is reminded of a lecture he had once received from his coach when he had caused one of his female fans to burst into tears at a meet-and-greet: _There’s bluntness and then there’s just plain disrespect, Seung-gil. Part of the success of being a figure skater is the performance – the ability to invoke positive emotions in the audience and the judges. Victor Nikiforov has incredible skill, but his popularity is also because he’s always gracious towards his fans, and always has a positive public persona. You have a face and a tongue that makes people want to avoid you, Seung-gil – how is that any way for a performing artist to carry himself?_

And Seung-gil had responded, as per usual: _I don’t see the point in faking a better personality to get people to like me. I simply wish to skate._

By the time he’s even considered revising his response to Yuuri, the other has already started talking again, attempting to patch the sudden tension in the conversation by changing the subject. “Phichit invited you, didn’t he? Are you two friends?”

“Not really,” Seung-gil says, and it’s the truth. They hadn't talked prior to that evening, and he's still not certain why he had been invited in the first place.

Yuuri looks thoughtful. “Phichit is always doing whatever he can to expand his friend group. He’s just got one of those personalities that brings everybody together – I’ve always really admired that about him, ever since we met in Detroit. He would see me acting awkward and trying to avoid a social situation, and he’d somehow manage to include me in the least invasive way possible. He’s someone that everybody likes.”

“Mm.” In truth, Seung-gil agrees with that description of Phichit entirely, but he doesn’t want to admit it and risk being roped into any more group social interactions.

“Oh, right – Phichit told me you like dogs, that’s something you and I have in common. I wish you could have traveled here with him somehow. I saw the picture on your Instagram and he’s really cute! I bet he and Makkachin would get along really well.”

 _Why was Phichit even talking about me in the first place?_ “Makkachin?” he asks instead.

“Victor’s poodle,” Yuuri clarifies. “He’s really friendly and warm – sometimes he sleeps with us.”

 _Us._ Seung-gil has to fight back a grimace at the thought of Yuuri and Victor curled up in bed together. It’s bad enough that Victor and Yuuri have recently taken to posting pictures of each other right after waking up, competing to determine who has the worst bedhead.

Yuuri misinterprets the disgruntled expression, because he adds, “Ah, well – I don’t know how you feel about poodles…”

Seung-gil shakes his head. “They’re a good breed. They’re very smart and trainable.”

Yuri’s lips quirk into a smile. “Are there any dog breeds you don’t like, Seung-gil?”

He purses his lips and looks away, feeling oddly as though Yuuri has discovered some deep secret of his. “All dogs have their merits,” he mutters, and now he finds himself missing his own dog back home in Pyeongchang more than ever. Dogs are ideal companions because they’re smart, loyal – and don’t engage you in pointless conversation when you’re just trying to keep to yourself.

“I agree,” Yuuri says warmly. “How do you feel about other animals? Are you a cat person, too?”

“Cats are all right,” Seung-gil says airily. “Dogs are better, though.” His lip juts out in an almost-pout to emphasize his point.

Yuuri laughs. “Can’t say I disagree with that. You know, I think you must be a good guy, Seung-gil. I’ve never met anyone who loves dogs that much who’s a bad person. I think Phichit feels the same way. He seemed excited at the thought of getting you to hang out with us again.” A pause. “Next time, maybe it can be just the three of us? Victor can be a bit overwhelming at times, I get that.”

“Wouldn’t I still get in the way? You and Phichit seem close.”

Yuuri shakes his head. “You wouldn’t be in the way. Maybe the three of us could go to the rink sometime – you’re both amazing skaters, I think we’d all learn a lot from practicing together.”

 _But you two placed in the Grand Prix and I was left behind_ , Seung-gil thinks sullenly. It’s too much effort to be outwardly negative, so he keeps the thought to himself. “Perhaps.”

“Think about it,” Yuuri says encouragingly. “I’m going to go visit Minako-sensei’s ballet studio – have a nice rest of your run!”

Seung-gil raises an eyebrow as Yuuri darts off in the other direction. Hadn’t he said that he didn’t care if he and Yuuri wound up running the same way? Not only that, but he has no idea who it is Yuuri’s talking about, so the excuse is pointless.

None of that is his concern anymore. Seung-gil is someone who takes the saying _out of sight, out of mind_ more literally than most.

He keeps jogging.

* * *

The first thing Seung-gil does upon returning to the hotel is to take off his gloves and rub his hands together to warm them.

The second is to freeze in place as he hears a voice he dreads quite possibly more than any other sound on the planet.

“Oh, Seung-gil, just the man I wanted to see.”

For whatever inexplicable reason, JJ is walking through the hotel lobby in nothing more than a pair of shorts and a towel slung around his shoulders – god forbid he turns around suddenly to show off that hideous, tacky tattoo of his own initials etched on his lower back. Seung-gil had known from the start that he never would have been able to go the entire trip without running into JJ, but he can feel a wave of despair crash over him that the encounter had happened so soon. The younger boy – how can JJ be _younger_ , and still carry himself like he’s the king of the world? – has his hands perched on his hips playfully, his lips curled into that cocky half-smirk Seung-gil would love to punch right off his face.

“I’m busy.”

“Really? Busy with what?”

“Busy with not talking to you,” Seung-gil mutters. “Go away.”

JJ pouts, and it’s so fake that Seung-gil’s stomach churns. “Aw, and here I thought you were finally starting to get along with everyone and play nice. So you’ll hang out with Phichit Chulanont and not me, is that what you’re saying?”

At first, Seung-gil doesn’t know what he’s talking about, then – _oh. The Instagram photos._  “Yes, that’s what I’m saying,” Seung-gil agrees. “Also, put a shirt on when you’re in public. You’re indecent.”

“I just got out of the shower,” JJ replies as if that justifies anything. With each backwards step Seung-gil takes to escape, JJ in turn sidles up even closer beside him. “You should get out more, Seung-gil. There’s a whole world of fun out there that you could experience if you just kept an open mind. Here, I'll start you off with a great offer: wanna get dinner with me, Mickey, and Sara later? Really, you should be flattered that King JJ is extending the offer to you at all. I’ll even pay,” JJ says, snaking an arm around Seung-gil’s shoulders.

Seung-gil pushes him off aggressively. “I’ll pay _you_ to leave me alone,” he snaps, taking another ample step in the opposite direction.

“That’s cold, Seung-gil-chan.”

“I’m not Japanese and neither are you, so cut that out.”

“’Lil Seung-gil.”

“That’s no better, fuck off!” And what sort of way is that to speak to your elder, anyway?!

“Ah, Seung-gil, _Seung-gil_ – you think you’re so much better than everybody, but you couldn’t even place in the final,” JJ drawls. "It's okay, I get it. I understand. Not everyone can attain the greatness of King JJ, but that's just the way life is. You'll grow to accept it someday, I'm sure."

“I think _I’m_  better than - ? _You’re_ the one who skates to a song written about yourself!” Seung-gil _knows_ he shouldn’t engage him, but something about JJ’s presence awakens the inner petulant child in him, and he finds himself bickering against his better judgment.

“Nothing wrong with having a little confidence,” JJ chirps hypocritically. “So we’re on for tonight, yeah?”

Seung-gil realizes if he doesn’t invent an excuse right then and there, JJ is never going to leave him alone. “For your information, not everyone’s life revolves around you.” He looks away pointedly. “I have plans.”

“No you don’t.”

“I do.”

“What plans?”

“Why is that any of your business?”

“I’m curious because I’m your friend.”

“We are not friends!” Seung-gil hisses, swatting at JJ’s arm as the other attempts to reprise pulling him in by the shoulders.

JJ sighs melodramatically. “Just tell me what plans you have, and I’ll leave you alone, I promise.” A wink. “For tonight, anyway.”

Seung-gil truly wants to throw up. “I told Phichit I’d watch a movie with him,” he mutters. “Happy now? Now go back to your room and leave me be.”

“Phichit, huh?” JJ muses. “What a nice guy, making time for a grump like you.” He reaches out and ruffles Seung-gil’s hair; Seung-gil feels a jolt of pure disgust run through him as he jumps out of the way, putting as much space between him and the offending hand as he possibly can. “He’s like that to everyone, though, so don’t feel too special, yeah?”

 _And you're a cocky asshole to everyone._ Rather than voice this, Seung-gil turns and walks away. He’s been done with this conversation since it started, and he wants to go back to his own room to shower after his run. That, and - now he needs to actually message Phichit about the movie and make real plans, or he'll lose his chance to escape JJ later.

“Nobody ignores the King – hey, Seung-gil, are you listening to me?

_No, I'm not._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd love to keep updating fast, but I'm not sure this pace is fully sustainable considering I now have a secret santa assignment to work on as well... but we'll see.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Throwing around some small headcanons, shrugs.

Immediately when Seung-gil returns to his room, he takes out his phone to text Phichit.

It feels strange – no, more than strange, _unnatural_ – to initiate a social interaction, mostly because he’s never been close enough to another person to call them a _friend_. Would he even call Phichit that after only two interactions?

 _He’s like that to everyone._ The echo of JJ’s words makes him scowl (of all people, why can't that bastard get out of his head and leave him alone?!) but Seung-gil knows it to be true. Even Yuri Plisetsky, who’s arguably grumpier than he is, seems to like Phichit. Knowing what little he does of the other's personality, Phichit most likely already considers him a friend, even if he himself is agonizing over giving the other that same label.

_Would you be free to watch that movie later?_

He frowns as he hits send, as though performing the action is battling against his very essence. A part of him wishes that Phichit will say no, that he’s busy with other people, just so that Seung-gil can erase this absurd nagging notion that they’re friendly in any way and get on with his life. The downside to this would be that he’d wind up stuck with JJ and the incest siblings at a dinner event that would make his encounter with Yuuri and Victor two nights prior seem heavenly in comparison, but at least he wouldn’t be fooling himself into believing that he and Phichit are bosom buddies or some such nonsense.

For better or worse, Phichit responds with an affirmation almost immediately.

_absolutely!!!_

_i wasnt sure if you were even interested when i offered haha_

_but id love to!_

Seung-gil has to force his mind to not switch into analysis overdrive at the texts. The meaning of course is clear – but it’s the enthusiasm that baffles him, makes him wonder if he’d done or said something during their last conversation that would have made Phichit feel exceptionally positive towards him. He comes up with nothing, and is left frowning with puzzlement at the messages before finally texting back a _When?_ and awaiting the response.

They decide that Seung-gil will head over to Yuuri’s place mid-afternoon.  Phichit is staying in one of the spare rooms instead of lodging at the hotel with the other foreign skaters because he and Yuuri are close friends, and also because apparently Yuuri and Victor share a bedroom now (information that Seung-gil never wanted or needed to know but was offered anyway), so there’s extra space for guests. Phichit adds that the onsen feels amazing after a long day and that they could soak after the movie to relax, which admittedly does sound pretty nice.

_ill even ask yuuris mom if she can make extra katsudon_

_its so delicious i totally get why its yuuris favorite!_

_ill make sure to tell her not to put veggies in yours haha_

Much to his dismay, Seung-gil finds himself smiling.

He coughs.

_Sounds good._

* * *

“Sorry there’s not much room in here,” Phichit says, moving his backpack out of the way to make space for both of them to sit on the futon as he sets up his laptop. “Well, I can’t really do anything about it, because the spare rooms in this place are pretty tiny, but I’m just thankful that Yuuri and his family let me stay here at all. What about you, how’s the place you’re staying?

Seung-gil sits cross-legged on the futon next to him. “It’s all right. Nice, I guess. Except –” He hesitates.

“Except what?”

“…Except, I see JJ around sometimes.”

That gets a laugh out of Phichit. “You really don’t like that guy, huh?”

“No.” He narrows his eyes. “Do you?”

Phichit shrugs. “I don’t really know him that well, but I'd like to think everybody’s got redeeming qualities if you talk to them a little! That’s why I’ve been trying to hang out with you so much, after all.”

Seung-gil bristles. “Don’t compare me to that guy!”  _And are my 'redeeming qualities' really that unapparent?_  He's never been one to care about what others think of him, but oddly the thought bothers him greatly.

“I wasn’t trying to. Besides, surely there’s _something_ you find admirable about him, right?”

An image of Jean-Jacques Leroy shirtless to show off his tattoos and smirking at him with that loathsome arrogance - prattling on about his greatness and his high skating scores and how everyone should feel blessed in his presence - invades Seung-gil’s consciousness against his will, and his jaw clenches. “No.”

“Maybe if the three of us went out sometime, you’d warm up to –”

“No!” Seung-gil snaps, a bit more forcefully. “I don’t want to do anything with that guy! I only came here to avoid him in the first place.”

Phichit’s expression is guarded, indecipherable.  “That’s the reason?”

“Yes?”

“Ah, I’m a little disappointed,” Phichit says lightly, but there’s a curious layer to his tone that Seung-gil can’t put his finger on. “Here I thought you were actually excited about the movie – but hey, at least I was your go-to guy for an escape, right? I consider that making at least a little progress, when it comes to a guy like you.” He nudges Seung-gil in the side lightly with his elbow.

Seung-gil's not usually skilled at picking up the subtle social cues of others, but he'd certainly processed that one. Phichit’s tone suddenly makes a lot more sense, and – _shit, it’s that guilt again._ For once Seung-gil hadn’t chosen his words carefully enough, and he wishes he could backtrack somehow, to erase the hurt his tactlessness must have caused. JJ was right when he’d said that Phichit was nice to everyone, and now he, Seung-gil Lee, had gone and callously trampled on the feelings of quite possibly the most gracious person in the entire world of figure skating. It’s not bad enough that he can’t place in competitions, he also has to be a social screw up in the worst way possible, apparently. On top of all that, he’s irritated he even cares enough about someone else’s feelings to feel guilt at all. Nobody pays mind to his, so why should he do the same for anyone else?

And yet.

“I would have watched the movie with you anyway,” he says after a slight lull, more cautiously. “It… became more urgent. But I would have.” He closes his eyes for a beat, a bit lost and incompetent in this situation, which in turn makes that foreign guilt grow heavier. “I appreciated the invitation. I –” He swallows. “I feel a bit... bad that I can’t seem to match your enthusiasm about anything.”

Phichit’s looking at him with those sympathetic eyes again, and the intensity of his understanding is starting to get a bit overwhelming. Seung-gil fidgets. “Do people say you’re a closed-off person, Seung-gil?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Often, yes.”

“Some people just need the right push to open up,” Phichit says, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “Like, Guang Hong is pretty bashful, but I think he’s gained more confidence since he and Leo started posting more pictures. He’s found a way he can express himself to others and put himself out there, you know? That’s why social media is so great, you can share yourself with the world and it’s so easy.”

“So you’re suggesting that the answer to my social ineptitude is to post more Instagram photos.”

Phcihit chuckles. “Hey, I didn't say you were socially inept. But - when you put it like that, it seems pretty silly, huh?”

“It does.”

“You know what I like about you?” Seung-gil experiences a jolt at the word _like_ – since when did anyone _like_ anything about him? “You’re so honest. I bet you could use that bluntness of yours to write a really popular column. You know, you'd be like, of those guys who are so refreshingly cynical that you’d gain a following. You could capitalize on it, make it your image, and I bet you’d gain fans who liked you for it.”

“I’m _not_ writing a column,” Seung-gil mutters. _Where is this conversation even going?_ “And I’m not cynical. I just don’t like people with massive egos. It’s unseemly.”

Phichit smiles. “See, now I know you dislike arrogance and you like dogs. I learn more about you every day. What’s your favorite subject in school?”

"Playing twenty questions now, are we?"

"I'm curious!"

“Aren’t we supposed to be watching a movie?”

“C’mon, we barely know each other.” Phichit pouts. “Just talk to me a little, and I promise… I promise I won’t make you take any selfies with me today.”

Seung-gil sighs. “Fine. Whatever. I like math.”

“Somehow I’m not surprised. You seem like a math kinda guy.” Phichit peers more closely at him, and Seung-gil finds himself leaning back a little under his gaze. “I always liked social studies and history more, myself.”

“I didn’t ask,” Seung-gil says without thinking, then winces. “I mean, I guess that’s good to know.”

Phichit seems satisfied with his hasty revision, at least enough to ignore it, and moves on. “Why’d you want to skate a mambo?”

“Just to do what was unexpected of me.”

“Favorite color?”

“I don’t think about stuff like that.”

“I like green,” Phichit offers. “Why’d you start skating?”

“I liked how it felt. I suppose.”

“Do you get annoyed by pointless questions?”

“…A little.”

“Then how about we watch the movie?”

Seung-gil lets himself smirk, ever so slightly. “All right.”

* * *

Seung-gil isn’t quite sure how he feels about _The King and the Skater_ , and he confesses as much to Phichit. His overly analytical mind goes into overdrive, explaining the elements he thought were executed well, as well as the plot points he found to be a bit disjointed.  Seung-gil usually isn’t a huge fan of musicals, but he appreciated the music nonetheless (though privately he believes Phichit’s own skating routine to _Shall We Skate?_ was more personal and moving than the one choreographed for the movie). He also confesses that some of the elements specifically relating to Thailand and Thai culture probably escaped him, and that Phichit most likely has a much deeper appreciation of those aspects of the film. Phichit listens with unusually rapt attention as he rambles, nodding where he agrees and interjecting his own opinions where they vary.

Their film discussion is brought to a halt when they are served dinner by Yuuri’s mother. Like Phichit had said, Hiroko Katsuki’s katsudon is delicious - though, delicious enough to choreograph an entire skating program about it? That’s debatable. (The inner workings of Yuuri Katsuki's mind are a riddle at every turn.) At the very least, it’s delicious enough to prevent the two of them from speaking to each other as they eat, too immersed in their food to utter a word.

“Hey, Seung-gil – the name of your piece,” Phichit asks suddenly once they’ve both finished, “what’s it mean?”

It takes Seung-gil a moment to realize Phichit is talking about a piece he’d skated to. “Which one?”

“The mambo.”

“ _Almavivo_?”

“Yeah!”

“Well, _alma_ is soul and _vivo_ is living… so I guess _alive soul_ , if you took it literally. Or if you translated it extremely liberally, perhaps something along the lines of _passion._ Since that’s what makes your soul ‘alive,’ I suppose – that’s just my interpretation, anyway.”

Phichit hums thoughtfully. “What makes your soul alive, Seung-gil? What are your passions?” As he opens his mouth to respond, Phichit raises his hand to cut him off. “I mean, besides skating and dogs. What memories invoke good feelings?”

“What is this, an interrogation?”

“Nah, I’m just asking as a friend. That’s okay, right? Tell me a good memory of yours,” Phichit insists. “It’ll help me get to know you better, I think!”

Seung-gil experiences a strange jolt at the word _friend._  There was that mystifying, uncertain label again. "A memory?" he muses, frowning as he attempts to pinpoint one. “Once, when I was in junior high, I got off at the wrong bus stop on the way home from school. I realized it too late, and I didn’t have time to get back on the bus. It was going to be at least an hour before that specific bus looped back around on its route, so I was planning to wait, but it began to rain extremely heavily and I didn’t have an umbrella. The bus had dropped me off right in front of the library, so I went inside and began to read. With the sound of rain outside, it was very peaceful.  When I got home an hour later, I was really cold and wet, so my mother made spicy soup I liked, and my dog was still a puppy then, so he crawled onto my lap to keep me warm and fell asleep. I don’t know why that’s a good memory for me,” Seung-gil adds defensively, suddenly self-conscious about how much he’s talked at once. “I just remember feeling nice afterwards.”

Phichit had been listening attentively, and nods. “It sounds nice,” he agrees. “Like, a nice atmosphere or something? Do you like rain, then?”

Seung-gil nods.

“And you’ve had your dog for a while, huh?”

“He’s about eight,” Seung-gil says.

“Lucky, my hamsters only lived about two years,” Phichit says, nudging Seung-gil with his shoulder. He’s not sure what to do about Phichit’s tendency to make small gestures of physical contact, so he chooses to do nothing at all, to sit there stiffly and accept them. “I agree with you about rain being calming, though! But you know what’s even better, is when there’s a big storm outside and you and your friends all huddle together and tell ghost stories, and then everyone’s on edge and they're trying not to scream when there’s a loud clap of thunder. I pulled that on Yuuri once when we roomed together, poor guy – he didn’t have the stomach for it. I think he spent the rest of the night shivering. He looked so exhausted when we went to train the next day, I felt kinda bad.”

“Well, I wouldn’t be scared no matter what you told me,” Seung-gil says stubbornly, because it’s better than admitting he doesn't have friends to exchange ghost stories with. “No one has scientifically proven the existence of ghosts, so they’re not scary.”

Phichit chuckles. “Science, huh? That's just like you. Well, I’ll take that as a challenge! If it ever rains, I’m gonna come up with a story that’ll make even _you_ nervous. And I’ll take pictures of you cowering for my Instagram,” he adds with a cheeky wink. “You’d be surprised how creative I can get once I get started on a story.”

 _I don’t think I’d be surprised at all._ Seung-gil shrugs, taking in the other’s face, the cheerful warmth of his eyes and the eagerness which makes him so easy to talk to, because he’s always listening and always _cares_. “Phichit,” he begins a bit hesitantly, eyebrows knitting together with consternation.  “Let’s take a picture together.”

“Really?” Phichit says, sounding a bit awestruck. “I mean, I said we didn’t have to, and I meant it –”

“...I want to prove to JJ that we actually hung out,” he clarifies petulantly, to which Phichit laughs.

“Sure, sounds good!” He leans in closer, brushing their shoulders together, and Seung-gil hesitates for a moment before leaning back. “Your phone or mine?”

“I’ll take it on mine,” Seung-gil says, holding up his phone and switching to the forward-facing camera. “Uh, is the angle okay?” He squints and tilts the screen forward. “I don’t take many… selfies.”

“Hmm…” Phichit ponders for a moment. “Maybe a bit higher, and to the left –” He reaches up and wraps his fingers around Seung-gil’s hand, guiding him to the right spot. Seung-gil’s own fingers reflexively clench a bit tighter around his phone, which he irrationally pictures himself dropping - is his palm suddenly clammy, are his fingers shaking?. No, he must have been imagining it, because everything seems normal when Phichit lets go. “I can hold the phone, if you want – I have a lot of practice. Taking selfies, it’s a skill I’ve been perfecting over the years.” His chest puffs up with pride.

Seung-gil snorts. “What a skill. But I’ll do it,” he insists. “Ready?”

“Yup, sure am!”

At the last second before he snaps the photo, Phichit raises his hand in a peace sign behind Seung-gil’s head, then grins apologetically. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist.”

Seung-gil sighs. “One more, a _normal_ one.”

“Okay, okay, I promise.”

This time, Seung-gil returns the favor and gives Phichit bunny ears instead.

“Hey, no fair! I thought you wanted a normal one.” Phichit pouts.

“Payback,” Seung-gil says simply.

Phichit’s eyes sparkle mischievously. “So, which one are you gonna post?”

“…Both of them, of course.”

* * *

373 likes

 **seung-gillee** Hanging with a friend #phichit-chu

 **Jjleroy!15** I think you misspelled “banging”

 **Jjleroy!15** Unless you’re not at that level yet, then my mistake~

 **seung-gillee** Shut the fuck up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unrelated to the fic, but props to the writers of this anime for... well, all of it. Episode 10 was a ride, that was for sure.
> 
> The lovely viktoryuurii on tumblr/showhoe on ao3 drew me fanart for this fic (?!?) of Seung-gil texting Phichit that I reblogged on my (mostly unused) writing blog here: http://lxporidae.tumblr.com/post/154198847271 (just in case they ever change urls). I was going to edit it into last chapter's notes, but I figure it's more fitting with this one. I'm really humbled that anyone would draw for anything I write at all, ever - the quickest way to my heart is through drawings and I'm just. Stupidly happy. Thank you, you're the MVP today.
> 
> The equally lovely nohomo-jaku on tumblr/kuruhoshurin on ao3 (I have no idea how people want me to credit them) drew Seung-gil's Instagram photo: http://lxporidae.tumblr.com/post/154313767806 and ahh I'm in love with all this art, I can't thank either of you enough. It's really surreal and also makes me want to write more so everybody wins (but mostly me because omg receiving art makes me feel so warm and fuzzy). 
> 
> pandas-eat-pizza on tumblr/lotusalchemist on ao3 also drew this really cute fanart of Phichit talking to Seung-gil that I reblogged here: http://lxporidae.tumblr.com/post/154344271151 Seriously, you guys are gonna make me die young here, I'm overwhelmed by how positive people are and if I can inspire other people to create art that's a truly good feeling. I love all of you.
> 
> If you ever draw me anything for whatever reason, you can message me on tumblr and I'll reblog it, or just let me know here and I'll absolutely link it in the fic, you're all wonderful for supporting me and I hope we all drown in rare pair hell together.
> 
> That being said, I'm trying my best to reply to comments without getting repetitive, so sorry if it... gets repetitive anyway? Haha.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: No Canadians were harmed in my portrayal of JJ... I hope.

"Well, well, if it isn't the world's angriest parrot."

“What the fuck was that comment on my Instagram photos, huh?!”

JJ leans against his doorframe, grinning without shame. “I don’t know what you mean by that, Seung-gil. I’m lost.”

“You know exactly what I mean, you dick.”

“Seung-gil, it’s absolutely obvious that you’re infatuated with Phichit,” JJ continues, tone casual as though announcing today’s weather. “You just need a little push, and then you’ll be a much happier guy and won’t wind up with permanent frown lines before you’re 21 years old. I’m doing you a _favor_ – I'm trying to be nice! You’ll thank me for it later."

“The hell I will,” Seung-gil snaps.

JJ pouts. "I'm not a bad guy, you know. A lot of the proceeds from my band go to charity. I know my personality is larger-than-life, and it can be overwhelming for people like you, but I'm not a selfish guy. That's why I want the best for you: I want everybody to have as much fun as I do."

"Or maybe _you_ could try having a little _less_ fun sometimes?" He doesn't care if JJ's cured cancer - it doesn't change the fact that he's annoying as hell. "And keep your nose out of my relationships!”

JJ cocks an eyebrow. “Relationship, huh? So, what’s your _relationship_ with Phichit, hmm?”

 _Acquaintances - ?_ “Friends,” Seung-gil says stiffly.

“Aw, and here I thought _I_ was your only friend.”

Seung-gil scowls. _As if._  “Just – stop commenting on my Instagram, you’re going to give people the wrong idea.”

“Can’t promise that,” JJ says cheerfully. "Forget that, why don’t you come in?”

“Because I don’t -”

JJ pats him on the shoulder, and before Seung-gil can even recoil from the touch, the other has grabbed his arm and is tugging him forward. “Seung-gil – don’t get me wrong, I’m asking out of the goodness of my _concerned_ heart, but – has anyone ever told you your fashion choices are, to put it lightly, a bit dreadful?”

“Yes,” Seung-gil replies simply, “but I don’t care.” It’s the truth: he’ll toss on whatever’s close by when dressing himself, regardless of whether it matches or whether the colors look tacky. Right now he’s wearing a lime green undershirt beneath his black and blue jacket. So what if it’s an ugly color? It’s warm, and it was on sale. JJ probably spends more time looking in the mirror every morning than Seung-gil has spent looking in one for his entire life.

Idly Seung-gil's gaze wanders the inside of JJ's room, the garishly white and red lair that he's had the misfortune of stepping into. Everything JJ owns seems to have a maple leaf symbol on it in some form or another, from his towel to his backpack to, of course, that obnoxious tattoo on his bicep.  _We get it, you're Canadian._ Seung-gil wouldn't be surprised if JJ bathed in maple syrup; the thought alone causes his nose to scrunch up in distaste.

“Ever consider wearing JJ Style? Fashion’s big in Korea, yeah? You’d make a pretty good advertisement, with all that -” with both hands he makes air quotes - " _'sex appeal_ _'_ you supposedly have."

“You have your own brand?” Seung-gil balks, though considering what he knows of JJ’s personality up to this point, he really has no right to be surprised. “Fuck no, I’d rather walk around naked.”

JJ laughs, which further irritates him. “Your fans might like that. But hey, figured you wouldn’t be into the idea. It was worth a shot. Anyway –” _And here comes the real motive of this conversation, kill me now –_ “you can’t _possibly_ be having movie nights with your future boyfriend _every_ night. That means I can steal you away for a group dinner tonight, right?”

Seung-gil fumes. “I don’t want to.”

“Me, you, the Crispinos – and I can invite Chris along as well, he always brings an extra bit of spice to any party, don’t you think?”

“When will you realize no one wants to be around you?”

“Pot calling the kettle black, my sour friend.”

Coming from this guy, the word _friend_  is a lot less flattering than it had been from Phichit’s lips. “I’m not going to dinner with you.”

“Even if I promise to stop bothering you on your Instagram?”

Seung-gil pauses. Unfortunately, he _is_  rather interested in that offer... With a sigh, he resigns himself to securing what little peace he can in the long run. “Are you blackmailing me?”

“No, of course not,” JJ says with a wink. “What do you say, do we have a deal?”

“…Fine.”

JJ whistles. “The King never loses!”

“You really better stop with the comments, I swear - !”

“The King never breaks his promises, either.”

_...This Canadian motherfucker._

* * *

He takes another jog. There’s something about talking to JJ that always makes Seung-gil want to start running in the opposite direction and never look back.

Whenever his temper reaches a tipping point, Seung-gil begins a theraputic process of mental categorization, of objects, people, the scenery around him - whatever strikes his fancy at that moment. It calms him down to imagine orderly things, much the same as it calms him down to calculate his score and potential deductions as he’s skating.

Right now he’s mentally putting the skaters currently in Hasetsu into two categories: the people he’s interacted with thus far, and those he’s managed to avoid. Phichit, Yuuri, Victor, Leo, Guang Hong, and (unfortunately) JJ fall into the first category; everyone else falls into the second. Sara Crispino had said hello to him on the first day, but Seung-gil doesn’t count that as an interaction because he’d brushed past her without responding.

 _Sara Crispino..._  At one point, Sara had gone out of her way to try to befriend him at competitions, even going so far as to get his number from his coach so that they could keep in touch – and his coach had relented easily, of course, since she was always encouraging Seung-gil to interact with a wider circle of people. Seung-gil avoided women his age like they were poisonous, always expecting them to be like his fangirls, who constantly wanted him to do something sexy (how?) or would shake his hand vigorously without letting go. Lately, though, Sara had been posting copious amounts of selfies with (and kissing) Mila Babicheva, and not even Seung-gil is dense enough not to realize the two of them are dating. For that reason, he's most likely safe from any unwanted advances from Sara, and engaging her in conversation would be safe, albeit somewhat irritating.

(Seung-gil is also aware that if he’s too openly rude to her, Michele will probably murder him on the spot.)

“Oh, hey – Seung-gil!”

“Hello!”

In the distance, both Yuuri and Victor’s voices cut through his mind's wandering thoughts; the two of them are probably out on some sort of couple’s stroll, he thinks sourly, giggling and holding hands and other sweet nothings he doesn't wish to witness. Seung-gil is about to book it as fast as possible in the opposite direction, when –

He hears a bark.

At once Seung-gil finds himself magnetically drawn in the direction of the voices. He misses his dog more than ever in this foreign place surrounded by pushy strangers, and he’d honestly do anything just for a small amount of that canine interaction he so craves - even if it means crashing the happy couple’s “date.”

Standing in front of Victor and wagging its tail is the fluffiest dog Seung-gil has ever seen. He’d like to say he’s not affected by how cute it is, but he can't deny the sudden bout of childlike giddiness that washes over him. “May I pet… him? Her?”

“Him,” Victor clarifies with a warm smile, a parent showing off his child. Seung-gil recognizes that look: it's the classic expression of a proud dog owner, one that he himself has worn many a time. “And of course, he loves the attention.”

“Takes after his owner,” Yuuri teases lightly.

Victor pouts. “How mean.”

Yuuri leans up to plant a kiss on Victor’s cheek. “Of course, I love you both,” he clarifies in a low tone, and Victor blushes.

Seung-gil would be gagging right about now if it wasn’t for the fact that he’s utterly ignoring the two of them in favor of the dog. “Makkachin, is that it?” he muses out loud, recalling his prior conversation with Yuuri, and he wags harder, stepping forward to nuzzle his head into his hand when he leans down to pet him. _H_ _e’s… so cute._ Seung-gil can’t help the smile that splits his face as the dog’s whole body wiggles with the excitement of being the center of attention.

“I’ve never seen you look so happy,” Yuuri teases – of _course_ one of them has to comment.

“I like dogs,” Seung-gil retorts, attempting to reform his mouth into a scowl but finding the task impossible when Makkachin licks his cheek. “More than people,” he adds pointedly, hoping the two of them will get the picture and leave him be.

Victor just smiles. “While I agree dogs are quite great, there are some good people out there, too, Seung-gil. Good people you find in the most unexpected of places. Though I’m not sure I’d trade away my dog for them,” he adds with a wink in Yuuri's direction.

“Now you’re the one being mean,” Yuuri chuckles. “I think you’re just jealous because Makkachin sleeps on my side of the bed now.”

“Yuuri - !”

Seung-gil finds himself wondering how much Phichit likes dogs. Unsure of what to make of the thought, he stands abruptly, forcing it out of his mind as he brushes off his jacket and coughs awkwardly. “Thanks for letting me pet your dog - Makkachin,” he says stiffly, unable to look at the two of them without noticing the light glinting off the matching gold bands on their fingers, and feeling a twist in his gut of something akin to –

Disgust?

Anger?

Jealousy?

_...Ah, that's it._

“You can come over any time to pet him,” Victor says, nodding. “I bet he’d love it, too.”

Makkachin barks.

“I’ll consider it,” Seung-gil says honestly, melting a bit at the poodle’s expectant gaze. “But I, uh. Thank you. I have to go.” Before waiting for a response, he forces a minute bow, then continues purposefully in the opposite direction, though not without stealing a few glances behind him at the receding figure of the fluffy canine he admittedly still wants to pet.

Once, Victor catches him looking and waves. Embarrassed, Seung-gil shoves his hands into the pockets of his jacket and picks up the pace.

He doesn’t look back again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To all of you who drew stuff for that last chapter: you've made me an unreasonably happy person. Support means motivation for me and more updates, so I always appreciate it. 
> 
> viktoryuurii (tumblr)/showhoe (ao3) drew some adorable art of Seung-gil meeting Makkachin here: http://lxporidae.tumblr.com/post/154542401326 Makkachin is absolutely the MVP of this anime, I love him so much.
> 
> I'm still winging this majorly, but I have a lot of ideas so there'll be more updates in the near future hopefully! I feel like I should slow down, but I'm having a lot of fun and so is everyone else apparently, so I guess I'm still going fast, haha.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I came up with another fic idea for these two while I was writing this chapter, sighs a lot.
> 
> Also I've been trying to reply to most of the comments and I can't tell if it's a good and nice thing to do or if I'm getting stale and annoying. Either way I probably worry too much.

_shall we skate?_  
_your dreams become true if you believe_  
_like a magical train we can catch_  
_shall you skate with me, let's step out with me_

“His routines really _are_ better than the ones in the movies,” Seung-gil mutters to no one, tossing his phone to the side of the bed.

He’s not sure how he got there, really. One moment he had been pacing his room, dreading the upcoming dinner interaction he had agreed to partake in, and reprimanding himself repeatedly for letting himself get stuck in this situation (was it really worth JJ leaving him alone on Instagram to have to suffer an entire evening with him?) – and in the next he was curled up on his bed, thumbing through skating videos of his competitors. And somehow, inexplicably, his attention had landed on Phichit’s performances at the China Cup, which he had begun to study and pick apart like he would his own, calculating the value of his quads, the deductions when he stumbled.

More subjectively he had observed the total enthrallment of the audience, the gleaming of his coach’s eyes and the shouts from his supporters when he finished his routines, and the way Phichit himself had lit up when he received his score, the way he engaged with the camera and smiled and waved. Even the emotional iceberg that is Seung-gil found his cynicism melting, his lips traitorously curling into a smile when Phichit formed a heart shape with his fingers and shoved it energetically in the direction of the camera.

Seung-gil rolls onto his back with a sigh. It strikes him then, lying in bed staring at the hotel ceiling, how superior Phichit is to him in almost every way. He's a better skater, more revolutionary to his people, more charismatic - and by far a nicer person. He's the kind of person Seung-gil's own coach wishes he could be. The thought makes him scowl, and he flips onto his stomach, burying his face in the pillow with a distressed groan.

At the Rostelecom Cup, after being crushed into dust beneath the boots of his fellow competitors, Seung-gil had cried. Tears of frustration mostly, and inadequacy. He had failed to represent his country or his own efforts to any significant degree, and even now pulling himself up from such a failure with pride is proving to be difficult. 

After Yuuri’s medal at the Grand Prix, Seung-gil had passively listened to the interviews he and Victor had conducted and had learned of how the former five time champion had experienced a new energy, a new passion for skating, in the process of coaching Yuuri. His own routines had grown stale, both to his audience and to himself, and he knew that.  But Yuuri was something exciting and novel, not just in his world of skating but in his personal life as well. 

He hadn’t wanted to admit it at the time, but more and more Seung-gil is beginning to realize that he suffers from the same ailment as the former champion: boredom. Consistently present in his life are the same public persona and the same nonexistent social life as he goes through the motions of his existence: a stoic face, a disinterest in the world around him, and the strained interactions with his niche group of fans. Even his routines are crafted from an objective perspective; _this quad is what will get me points, this step sequence is what will appeal to my audience, and here is the margin where I’ve worked in room for stumbles and failures._ Of course his face doesn't match his performances when his mind, body, and emotions are all utterly disjointed. 

Not like Yuuri Katsuki, whose love is apparent in every performance. Not like Yuri Plisetsky, who improves ambitiously in leaps and bounds at every competition. Not like Jean-Jacques Leroy, whose skill matches his ego even with bumps in the road and whose desire to show off leads to better results. 

And not like Phichit Chulanont, whose fun-loving spirit is apparent in everything he did, skating or otherwise. 

 _Why’d you want to skate a mambo?_

Why, indeed. 

Seung-gil’s phone buzzes. 

 _guang hong leo and i are going out for ramen, do you wanna join us?_

It’s Phichit, of course – who else would be texting him? For once in his life, Seung-gil desperately wishes he could say yes. But a deal is a deal… 

_I’m busy._

When Phichit replies with an _aw that’s too bad_ , Seung-gil wonders if perhaps he’d been a bit too abrupt with his wording. It’s hard to tell from Phichit’s text, but it’s likely that such a blunt delivery offended him. Then again, Phichit usually seems to let things roll off his back… even so, perhaps he should text him a follow-up, just to soften the blow.

_Maybe some other time._

_absolutely!_ comes the immediate response.

His enthusiasm leaves Seung-gil relieved. At least now he has an incentive for getting through dinner without bashing his head in: promise of future interactions with far less exhausting people.

* * *

Seung-gil is not a religious person. That being said, tonight he truly believes hell is real. How could he not, when he's currently experiencing it? 

The group JJ amassed is exactly as he'd described, minus Sara who apparently is somewhere "getting wasted with her girlfriend and that dance teacher," as Michele had put it so moodily. Between his bad mood, JJ's incessant chattering and Chris's questionable morality, Seung-gil has never wanted to escape a situation so intensely. His prior dinner with Victor and Yuuri making out next to him seems laughably pleasant in comparison to this current disaster. 

"Aren't you glad you joined us after all?" JJ says, shaking Seung-gil by the shoulder.

"No," he replies dully, brushing him off. "You must be _really_ lonely without your girlfriend here." 

"She’s hanging out with her family right now, but we Skype every day,” JJ says, unfazed. “But admittedly I do feel that pang of loneliness when I'm apart from the person I care about. It's only natural when you care so strongly for someone. Don't you feel the same about Phichit?" 

"I don't know where you get that we're having some wild romance," Seung-gil mutters. "I barely know him." 

"You seemed to be pretty happy to take pictures with him. Or are you implying you'd do the same with me, take silly selfies?" 

"You said you wouldn't bother me on Instagram," Seung-gil warns. 

JJ smirks. "It's not a bother if you take a picture with me willingly." 

The potential unpleasant aftermath of such an act surfaces in Seung-gil's mind; everyone would like the photo and assume he and JJ were on good terms (which they are  _not_ ), and then when people wanted to get rid of JJ they'd dump the babysitting responsibility on him, which would be unbearable. And of course then Phichit would comment on the photo, something nice and cute as always, like: _you look like you're having a lot of fun!_ which he would not be having _at all_ , and then Seung-gil would have to explain why he had agreed to even eat with him in the first place, and that reason boiled down to not wanting JJ to ruin the tenuous friendship he had begun to build with Phichit - which is too embarrassing to admit.

 _...Wait, "cute as always?"_  

"I'd rather not," Seung-gil replies drily after a pause that's far too long to be comfortable. 

"That just means Phichit has special privileges, right?" JJ insists cheerfully.  

"I don't care who it is," Michele takes the chance to interject, "as long as it's not my sister." 

Seung-gil almost rolls his eyes. "I have absolutely no interest in Sara, no need to be paranoid." 

Michele puffs up like an owl. "Oh yeah? And what about her is so uninteresting, huh?" 

 _There is just no winning with this guy._  "Because -" 

"Because he's got the hots for Phichit," JJ interjects. "Come on, did you see his short program outfit? That's not the attire of a man who's interested in women, that's for sure." 

"...I see," Michele says pensively, squinting at Seung-gil. 

He slams his hand on the table. "That's not what the outfit was for!" 

"Manners," Chris chides him gently, and Seung-gil jumps, almost having forgotten the older skater was even there. For most of the evening he'd seemed content watching the three of them argue, with the occasional break to check his reflection in his wine glass. 

Seung-gil just glares at him. 

“What _was_ the outfit for, then?” Chris persists patiently, his gaze knowing. Knowing _what_ exactly, Seung-gil doesn’t know, but definitely _something_ , and it pisses him off that Chris is privy to this knowledge yet refuses to share it. 

Or, more likely, he’s overthinking things again. 

“It matched the music I was performing to - the mambo,” Seung-gil snaps back. “Does there need to be more than that?” 

Chris shrugs lazily. “When I pick outfits for my programs, I try to choose whatever feels sexiest,” he says. “That way, I can best embody the persona that feels most like me, you know?” 

“That’s gross,” Seung-gil says before he can think to take it back. Chris just laughs. 

“All my clothes are authentic, _bona fide_ JJ style,” JJ adds unnecessarily. “To be the King, you have to dress like the King.” 

Michele pounds a fist on the table. “Chivalry is what’s most important to _me_ – I want Sara to watch and be proud of the man I am, no matter what.” 

“…That’s gross too,” Seung-gil says, leaning out of the way to dodge as Michele tosses a balled up napkin at his head.

Luckily, for the rest of the night Seung-gil is able to remain mostly silent as the others get into a heated debate about what qualities are most important for a man to embody – though to be quite honest, Michele is the only one who's heated (Chris just seems amused and JJ is, as usual, too caught up in his own ego to pay much attention to anyone else). Occasionally they ask Seung-gil to weigh in on something, to which he mostly grunts and turns away. Both the conversation and the company bore him. 

Idly he checks his phone to tune out the chatter around him. There’s been a few updates from Phichit and company, mostly selfies and pictures of their food, and he can’t help but experience a pang of envy at how happy they look. They all seem so comfortable around each other, smiling and laughing and making silly faces, and not for the first time Seung-gil wonders if perhaps Phichit had only interacted with him out of pity or the desire to be inclusive. 

He’s barely paying attention when they leave the restaurant after JJ pays for all of them – _“out of the goodness of my heart, treating my followers to a royal banquet!”_ (Seung-gil gags a bit) – and walk back to the hotel. All he can think about is how Michele, JJ, and Chris had all surpassed him in competition with higher scores. The same was true for Phcihit, and Yuuri, and everyone else who had qualified for the Grand Prix. And there’s a common thread to their successes: the ability to successfully embody their decided personas while skating. Watching the performances of any of them, their intentions are clear. Seung-gil on the other hand is in sharp contrast, with a routine and outfit and demeanor that all wildly contradict one another. 

 _What does_ my _skating embody?_

The question plagues him as he shrugs off JJ’s offending touch and escapes into his room. It plagues him as he takes a hot shower, as he shaves and brushes his teeth, as he changes into pawprint pajamas and turns off his light and climbs into bed. 

_What are your passions?_

"I don't know," he murmurs out loud.

He resolves himself to discover the answer to that question, even if it kills him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise the actual seungchuchu is going to pick up after this chapter - right now I feel this fic is mostly just JJ being annoying and Seung-gil being annoyed with him. But I hit some actual inspiration for a bit of direction, so it'll definitely get more shippy moving forward. Slow burn is slow for a reason, or something.
> 
> Seung-gil in pawprint pajamas drawn by my lovely friend (who I'll credit if she lets me): https://s27.postimg.org/mj12rdl9v/1482716846539.png


	7. Chapter 7

_This is an awful idea, absolutely fucking awful idea -_  is the mantra incessantly repeating itself in Seung-gil's mind as he knocks, but he does so anyway before he has the chance to talk himself out of the act. The woman who opens the door freezes when she sees Seung-gil standing there with his steadfast, unfriendly expression, her own face transitioning from disbelief to confusion. 

"Excuse me, you're Yuuri's dance teacher, is that correct?" he asks, cutting right to the chase.  "Minako?" 

"Yes, that's me," she says, staring at him with undisguised awe. Seung-gil can't help but squirm a bit under her intense gaze. "Don't worry about introducing yourself, I know exactly who you are. The man with the amazing footwork and stoic charm - I'm a big fan of yours! You'll sign an autograph, won't you?" 

"..." 

Minako coughs, slight color rising in her cheeks. "Got a bit carried away. Um - is there something you wanted to ask, Lee-san?" 

"Just Seung-gil is fine," he mutters, mentally weighing the pros and cons of backtracking and fleeing on the spot. (The pros are looking better by the second.) "Are you free?" he asks, then plows ahead before she has a chance to answer. "Teach me to dance the mambo." A cough. "...Please." 

Seung-gil had mulled over his problem of being able to connect to his music physically but not emotionally, and he had come to the conclusion that this disconnect was due to his inability to truly grasp the essence of the music he had been skating to. Phichit had chosen a track from a movie he'd loved since childhood, and his enthusiasm had shone clearly through his performance. If Seung-gil wanted to skate a mambo, he should have understood the dance first, not just technically but also in his soul.

"You want dance lessons?" Minako echoes incredulously. "Just like that?" 

"I'll pay for them," Seung-gil insists. "But yes, I want them. If - if that's at all possible." 

Minako shakes her head. "You don't have to pay, I'd be happy to help you." She looks as though she can hardly contain her fanatic glee at one of the skaters she idolizes approaching her, and it makes Seung-gil uncomfortable, like he's being held up to a standard he won't be able to meet. "I'm just surprised you of all people are interested." 

"I skated a mambo without understanding it," Seung-gil says. "The performance aspect of my routine would surely be enriched with more background experience." 

Minako raises an eyebrow at his formality, but mercifully doesn't comment. "I can't argue with that," she says. "Did you, uh - did you want to start right now? Right this second?" 

"Yes." 

She laughs. "You're even ruder and more straightforward than I expected." 

Seung-gil blinks, unsure how to properly respond to such an allegation.

"I'm pulling your leg, don't worry about it." Minako leads him into her studio after he's slipped off his shoes at the front entrance. "What do you wish to get out of these lessons?" And now the voice of the nervous fangirl is gone, replaced instead with the steadfast sternness of a no-nonsense teacher. "I can't guide you properly if I don't know what you want. And I'll let you know right off the bat that ballet is my specialty. I know enough bare bones of other ballroom dances to teach them to some degree, but I can't promise I can give you the most expert lessons possible." 

"I don't need to master it, I just want to feel it," Seung-gil says, though he's honestly not fully sure what he means by that. 

"Emotionally?" 

"...I guess." 

Minako clucks her tongue. "Well, I can't force emotions on you, but we can try. Anyway, take off your jacket, it'll get warm in here pretty quick if we're moving around. Now, let's start with the basic forward and backward movement -" Immediately her attitude shifts to something almost militant, but Seung-gil prefers it that way. He's there to learn, not to make friends or be coddled.  

The moment the lesson starts, it's clear to both of them that Seung-gil is an incredibly fast learner. Footwork has always been one of his strong points in skating, and it's no different here. Rhythmically and spatially, picking up on the basic mambo step is easy, since all it involves is a back and forth motion and a shifting of weight. Some of the steps he even recognizes from his skating routine, or at least the ones that had been loosely adapted. It doesn't take long for Seung-gil to begin to move more naturally, even as Minako teaches him more steps, such as crossovers and spins. Executing the steps properly is merely the result of his usual constant string of mental calculations, which foot goes where and how much weight should be distributed to certain parts of his body at certain times.

But it's the _feeling it_ that continues to pose the problem. Of course the mambo is a partner dance, but dancing with Minako is many layers of awkward. Besides the discomfort of every step being monitored by a teacher, Seung-gil can't help but feel awkward trying to loosen up with a woman. It's embarrassing and he's self-conscious, which in turn keeps him absorbed in his own thoughts. He finds himself utterly unable to put his typical overthinking aside.

"You're getting the movements down fairly solid," Minako says at the end of the second hour when they take a break for water. "But your face still looks like you've killed someone." 

Seung-gil grunts. 

"I don't think as your instructor I can give you what you're looking for," Minako continues. "Rather, I can give you the skills to perform the dance and practice with you, but at the end of the day if you don't like being partnered with me, you're going to have a bad time no matter what." 

Still he says nothing. Perhaps this had been a waste of time from the beginning. 

"You don't like women much, do you?" 

Seung-gil splutters. "What - what gives you that idea?" 

"Please, you have quite the reputation with your fans - surely you know that. But I'm not judging you," Minako adds breezily. "I'm just saying, if you really want to have fun doing this, maybe you should get someone to do it with you whose company you enjoy a little more. And maybe that would be someone not female, if you catch my drift." 

Seung-gil scowls. "I don't want people to know I asked you for this. It's -"

"It's what?"

"It's -"  _Out of character with my image._ "Weird." 

"Well, you may have to suck it up if you truly want to 'feel it.' Not that it's my place to judge, but you should consider socializing more in general if you want to spice up your life or whatever it is you're after. I gave the same advice to Yuuri when he was younger, actually. All I'm saying is, isolation and partner dances don't really mix. But I do think you might benefit from working on them with someone else. Dance can be very fun when you do it with the right person. That's what you want, isn't it? To have fun?" 

"...I'll think about it," he says sullenly. 

* * *

Seung-gil promises himself that the only reason he's going through with this idiotic idea is to find some way to improve his skating. He's deduced that what he's missing is passion and therefore he should be taking whatever extensive measures he can to awaken said passion. That's only logical, right? He's only taking Minako's advice, that's all. Nothing more, nothing less.

Still, it takes him at least an hour of painful deliberation to even dial the number, and after he's posed the question he can feel his chest tighten at the absurdity of what he's asking and how foolish he must sound. As if something like dance is truly going to help him that much with skating! It had seemed like a reasonable conclusion at the moment he'd made it, but putting in into words makes him wonder what the hell he had been thinking. Perhaps he should backtrack before he has the chance to be laughed at.

But Phichit's response comes more quickly than he can make that decision.

"You want me to take dance lessons with you?" 

Seung-gil's finger hovers over the hang up button. "Forget it, it's stupid. Bye." 

"No, no!" Phichit says hurriedly, and he pauses. "It sounds like a lot of fun, I was just surprised. What brought this on?" 

"Minako said I should ask y- someone. So I didn't have to partner with her all the time." 

Phichit chuckles softly. "I mean the dancing in general, silly. I doubt you'd do something just for fun, without a reason." 

"Well - fun _is_ the reason," Seung-gil admits, then adds hurriedly: "Rather, I wish to improve my programs and push myself beyond my limits. I've started to believe my current mindset is insufficient for connecting with my audience..." He coughs, feeling exposed by the admission. "Something like that." 

"That's a great idea," Phichit says, and from his tone alone Seung-gil can practically envision him beaming. It's not an unpleasant thought, not in the least. "I'd be honored to help you." 

_Honored._ Seung-gil swallows, willing himself to say something normal. Instead he blurts, "I watched your programs again," a wave of regret instantly washing over him. "Comparing them to the movie," he adds weakly. "The technique." 

"What'd you think?" 

He can't tell if he's growing warmer or experiencing chills. Perhaps he's coming down with a fever? "Yours were better." A cough. "More skill involved. ...Objectively." 

"Objectively?" 

"And - subjectively. It's more fun to watch you. Since - since I know you. So I thought you'd be an okay person to ask for help with, uh. Fun." 

There's a brief silence during which Seung-gil fantasizes about leaving and escaping back to Korea, then: "That's really sweet of you, Seung-gil. I wish you were here in person so I could give you a hug right now." 

The thought of being in Phichit's embrace is too overwhelming to bear. "I'm just saying," he says lamely. 

Phichit laughs. "Anyway, when did you want me to come on this secret dancing mission with you?" 

"When you put it like that, it sounds ridiculous..." Seung-gil sighs. "Tomorrow morning? If you can." 

"Sure, should I meet you there?" 

"Mmhmm." He still can't believe he's even asking for something like this. Maybe he's feverish after all. Dying, even.

The worst part is that he's looking forward to it.

"I'm so glad you asked me, really," Phichit gushes. "The more I think of it, the more I think it's a really good idea for both of us. Tell you what: I promise I'll help you have fun, and in return you can help me with the technical stuff, how's that sound? I think you're better at that than I am."

Seung-gil shrugs, then remembers they're on the phone. "Sure." 

"Then it's a deal!" Phichit says. 

"Promise you won't say anything to anyone?"

"I promise," Phichit assures him. "It can be really hard to do something outside your comfort zone, I totally get that. Making it public would just be even more awkward." As usual, Phichit's analysis of Seung-gil's reasoning is disturbingly spot-on. "I think it's brave that you're even trying something like this."

"Not really," Seung-gil mumbles.

"It is!" Phichit insists. "It really speaks to your drive to improve. If you're this motivated, you're gonna wind up surpassing me if I'm not careful! I'll have to practice twice as hard from now on."

"Then I'll practice three times as hard," Seung-gil says, mentally kicking himself for the childish response.

Thankfully Phichit just laughs. "I'm counting on it. Anyway, I have to get off, I promised Yuuri I'd skate with him and Yuuko. Apparently her little triplets really want to meet me. They're super cute, you should meet them too, sometime! They're huge fans of yours, too."

"Maybe."

"I'll see you tomorrow," Phichit says, and Seung-gil can feel his heart rate increase, though whether from excitement or anxiety he's not quite sure. "I can't wait!"

"...See you," Seung-gil says softly.

"Talk to you later! Bye!"

When Phichit hangs up, Seung-gil stares at his blank screen for far too long, as though he's in some sort of trance.  _What am I doing?_ he thinks, which is then followed up by a second, far more nerve-racking thought:  _Is this really still about skating?_

That's a question he doesn't quite want to know the answer to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some progress, I guess. This came from a late night thought of "what if Seung-gil actually learned the dance he had skated to?" So here we are, I'm rolling with it.
> 
> This has nothing to do with this chapter, but originally I had predicted the Grand Prix results incorrectly (as many did) so there wound up being some bizarre inconsistencies with canon. Because I want this fic to be as potentially canon compliant as possible, I edited some of the earlier chapters to reflect Yuri's win while still keeping the reasoning for the gathering pretty much the same. So don't worry about it too much, it's not that different.
> 
> Also, for whatever reason, I'd thought Makkachin was female but apparently the consensus is that he is male? That's what it says on the wiki, anyway. So I went back and changed that too.
> 
> (Let me know if I missed any instances of either of those, that'd be embarrassing.)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! I hope this year brings you all a lot of joy and kicks last year in the butt. All the support and kindness you all have given me this past month has truly helped me end this year on a positive note. I hope we can all go into the next year supporting each other in rarepair hell and just generally being kind to each other.
> 
> Updates might get a bit slower from here on out due to life picking up again after the holidays, so I apologize in advance. Despite that I'll do my best to keep writing no matter what.

Seung-gil is uncharacteristically nervous when he ventures to Minako's studio the following morning - and tired, for that matter, since he’d slept quite poorly. Several times he considers turning around and crawling back into his bed, but while he knows he can be tactless, he's not downright inconsiderate enough to invite someone to do something with him and then suddenly back out.

The night prior, Seung-gil had curled up under his covers for what felt like an eternity, scrolling through Instagram accounts of various people: first his own, then Phichit's ( _why?_ ), then a handful of random users who posted cute daily photos of their dogs. Even when slumber had finally claimed him, his dreams had been plagued with restless and uncharacteristic anxiety, the source of which he couldn't quite put his finger on (though he has the sense it’s something akin to loneliness).

Phichit's waiting for him outside the studio door when he arrives, and he waves at Seung-gil merrily, his expression radiating childlike enthusiasm. It's enough to tug on the corners of Seung-gil's lips, but he looks away before a smile overtakes them.

"I'm not surprised you're that kind of guy who's grossly cheerful in the morning," Seung-gil says instead, though he instantly yearns to erase the statement and his rudeness along with it.

Phichit laughs. "Well, then we balance each other out well, Seung- _grump_."

"Don't call me that," Seung-gil snaps, mildly affronted.

Nothing seems to faze Phichit, because he's still smiling. "Ready to sweep me off my feet?"

For a moment Seung-gil freezes - until he remembers Phichit is talking about dancing. Right. _That's what we’re here to do._ It's not like Phichit's expecting him to carry a conversation, or be suave, or take him somewhere to -

Why is his train of thought always so jumbled when he's around Phichit? It's not like Seung-gil to be this flustered, not when it's _literally_ his trademark to be cool and collected at all times. He'd checked his temperature the night before to be extra certain that he’s healthy, and he’d rewatched his own skating videos from the Rostelecom Cup and focused on his string of failures merely to distract himself from thoughts of Phichit, how he sees through Seung-gil's every thought, how physically close they'd been when watching that movie together. How his eager smile reminds Seung-gil of the way his dog stares at him with unbridled adoration and how special that makes him feel, only this time it’s from a person and Seung-gil doesn't know how to deal with people.

And that's the most frightening part of it all: not the intrusive and unexpected feeling he's afraid to name, but the bitter reality that he's doomed for failure if he admits so much of a sliver of it.

(And doomed to validate JJ, too, which really fucking _sucks_.)

Seung-gil remembers then that he's supposed to be responding to a question he can no longer remember. "…Mm.”

It seems to satisfy the other, because Phichit turns then to knock on the door, though he pauses. "Selfie first?" he asks hopefully.

"If you post it, people will know about this," Seung-gil says, though he hates denying Phichit something that clearly causes him a lot of happiness.

"I won't post it, I promise," Phichit assures him. "I just want it for myself, that's all. We need more pictures together, you and I, before we go home and lose the opportunity."

His stomach does a funny flip. "That's - fine, then."

"I'll send it to you too, so you can have it," Phichit says, and before Seung-gil can respond, Phichit has hooked an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close. His phone is already out and poised to take a snapshot, and their faces are practically touching; Seung-gil leans in so his face is in the camera frame and their cheeks brush.  He feels a bit lightheaded, all of a sudden.

 _I'm definitely coming down with something,_ he thinks pitifully, and he knows it's not sickness, but rather something worse. _Much_ worse.

"Earth to Seung-gil, did you hear me? I said I was gonna take the picture - geez, you're really spaced out. You do this a lot, don’t you?"

"Sorry," he mumbles, blinking.

Phichit shakes his shoulders lightly. "Don't worry about it, just look at the camera! Three - two -"

"Eh?"

"One - smile!"

The sudden countdown takes him off guard, and Seung-gil hastily tries to adopt a less disgruntled expression. Phichit seems satisfied enough, and swipes his thumb to review the photo. "Hey, you look cute. Wanna see?"

"No, thank you," Seung-gil says curtly.

"... _Seung-grump_."

"I said stop that!"

The door swings open, and Minako glares at the two of them critically, hands perched on her hips. "What's all the racket? Can't you knock like a normal person – oh?” Her expression softens upon noticing Seung-gil’s companion. “Phichit-kun, what a nice surprise! Did Seung-gil-kun invite you to be his dance partner? I can’t believe he actually took my advice, would you look at that. And for that matter, I had no idea you two were so close."

"It's a work in progress," Phichit replies cheerfully, and Seung-gil senses that horrible, traitorous lightheadedness creeping up on him again. He wishes it would just go away.

"I told him to bring someone he would have fun with," Minako continues, and Seung-gil prays that either she’ll stop talking or that a lightning bolt will burst from the sky to strike him down, preferably sooner than later.

"You wanna have fun with me, Seung-gil?" Phichit teases, raising an eyebrow.

"Let's just go in and get it over with," Seung-gil hisses, more than a little mortified.

The two shed their jackets and spend a few minutes doing stretches before taking their positions on the floor of the studio. Minako spends some time catching Phichit up on the basic step while Seung-gil practices on his own, the beat of a nonexistent song thrumming in his mind as he focuses on the precision of his footwork.

_Move on count two -_

He's completely immersed in his thoughts when he feels a tap on his shoulder, and he flinches, having almost forgotten there were others present in the room.

"Sorry to startle you," Phichit says sheepishly. "Do you still wanna practice with me?"

"Do you have it down well enough?"

"Well, I don't know what sort of standards you're holding me to, but I think I have the basic idea. Besides, you said that wasn't the point, right? You just wanted to have fun."

Seung-gil huffs. "It won't be fun if you can't do it."

He rolls his eyes. "It'll be fine, I'll get better as we go. Minako-sensei said she'd watch us and make corrections."

He sighs, though he's more nervous than irritated, and holds out his left hand. "Right hand," he clarifies, and Phichit nods in understanding, taking Seung-gil's left hand in his right. It sends a shudder down his spine that he tries to ignore as he places his right hand on Phichit's back.

"Should I also - ?"

Seung-gil shakes his head. "Your left hand goes on my shoulder," he says, to which Phichit complies. Seung-gil looks to Minako for confirmation, who nods. "Effectively, you're assuming the 'female role,' but only because you're shorter," he adds matter-of-factly in a tone of voice that would be much more suitable for reciting the mambo encyclopedia entry than for talking to a friend. "The basic pattern is the same, though - you step back when I step forward. Once we get that down solid, Minako - Minako- _sensei_ can teach us some more complicated steps, if you still have any interest.”

Phichit chuckles. "You're really no-nonsense about it - it's kind of funny to hear you get all stern like this."

Seung-gil scowls.

"I didn't mean that in a bad way," he amends. "I just - oh, forget it, let's just go ahead. Can I have this dance?"

"Obviously, since we're already in position."

Phichit snorts but doesn't comment, instead doing his best to keep up with Seung-gil's movements. It's clear that he keeps losing track of whether to step forward or backward, and Seung-gil finds his toes frequently stepped on, but he doesn't mind too much and brushes aside all of Phichit's subsequent apologies. Eventually the two settle into a rhythm, though Phichit occasionally lets out a soft laugh that breaks Seung-gil's focus and precision ever so slightly.

"You've got some surprisingly smooth moves, Seung-gil."

The tease takes him aback, and this time _he_  steps forward when he's supposed to step back. His blunder causes their foreheads to collide in a painful jolt, and he moves back hastily, letting go of Phichit's hand.

"I think I just proved you wrong, I’m not nearly smooth enough."

He's not sure what does it. Perhaps it's the ridiculousness of the situation, that the two of them are dancing to help Seung-gil find his possibly nonexistent inner mojo. Perhaps it's the fact that Phichit is even there with him at all, willingly engaging in this idealized nonsense that taking one dance lesson will spark his motivation like a cliche movie plot about inspiration and finding oneself. Or perhaps it's simply his misstep that tips him over the edge.

Seung-gil begins to laugh.

It's impossible to stop, as though all the laughter he hasn't let loose for the last several years of his life is being unleashed at once. Phichit gapes for a moment before his own laugh joins Seung-gil's, and he thinks offhandedly that Phichit's laugh is so warm, and gives him that same fluttery feeling he gets when hugging his dog.

"If you laugh that much, your face is gonna get stuck like that," Phichit finally manages to joke. “Oh, the horror! What will your fans think of you?”

"You’re right, I wouldn’t want to lose my unintentional sex appeal," Seung-gil replies deadpan, and then the two of them are laughing again. Seung-gil feels a twist in his gut and a sudden desperation to keep this interaction going forever, which is impossible and childish and he chides himself for it.

Their mirth dies down, both wiping tears from their cheeks. "Are you having fun?" Phichit asks, eyes twinkling.

"Yeah," Seung-gil says without a second thought.

“Then you accomplished your goal, nice! I knew we could do it.”

“...I suppose.”

"You have a nice laugh," Phichit adds offhandedly.

Seung-gil isn't sure how to say _the one with the nice laugh is you_ without sounding like a fool, so he merely shrugs. "This is silly, isn't it?"

"What's silly?"

"This dancing thing," Seung-gil says. "I'm a figure skater, so I ought to be focusing my efforts into that and not this. Objectively speaking, this endeavor is a waste of both physical and mental effort."

"Maybe," Phichit says. "But silly, waste of time sort of things are fun, especially with your friends."

 _We’re really friends?_ Seung-gil almost asks, but the last thing he needs right now is to sour the mood by laying out his unseemly insecurities as though he’s fishing for the other’s reassurance and sympathy. “Mm,” he grunts instead, his default somewhat-affirmative filler noise that he uses to fill the space when worded responses fail him.

“Actually, I wish I could keep wasting time with you,” Phichit says regretfully, taking Seung-gil’s hand again in his own, at which he pointedly glances away, “but I promised Yuuri I’d go out to lunch with him, just him and me. With all the commotion, we haven’t had a chance to hang out for a while one-on-one. I was having so much fun with you that I forgot, but then I saw the clock when we stopped, and -” Phcihit shuffles his feet, sheepish. “I feel really bad, I’m sorry, I don’t mean to ditch you or anything, but -”

“It’s fine,” Seung-gil says curtly. To say he’s jealous isn’t quite right, not of Yuuri anyway. It’s more the frustration of knowing he doesn’t have anyone else to hang out with when Phichit’s gone, and that Phichit is most likely is only interacting with him out of either pity or that universal kindness he bestows upon everyone.

And Phichit, bless his soul, seems to read what he’s thinking solely from Seung-gil’s tone. “I’m sorry,” he repeats, squeezing Seung-gil’s hand. Seung-gil closes his eyes for a moment, though whether it’s to savor the moment or quell his guilt and anxiety he’s not quite sure. “I truly do wanna hang out, though - maybe we can catch dinner or something later? I’ll text you if I’m free or something, I’ll -”

“Phichit.” Seung-gil’s other hand moves on its own and alights on Phichit’s shoulder, which he gives a light squeeze. "It’s fine.” Truthfully he’s more baffled than anything that Phichit would make so much effort to consider his feelings. No one has ever done that for him before to such an extent.

“Oh, um - all right.” The tension between them is suddenly bizarre, and the two pull apart from each other, staring at opposite walls.

“I’m not upset,” Seung-gil adds tensely, frustrated with his own inability to express proper sentiment. “We can take more pictures together later?”

Phichit brightens visibly at that. “Yeah! Absolutely. I’ll definitely message you later, okay?”

“All right.”

“This was really fun, I’d definitely do it again if you ever wanted.”

“...All right.”

Seung-gil watches in a transfixed daze as Phichit packs up and leave, wishing he could say more, to call out after him, _I want to be with you more_ , though he’s not sure what he means by that, either. He needs to do some serious reflecting later when he’s alone.

For now, he just lets him go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Best Santa ever drew Phichit and Seung-gil dancing, I'm in love: https://68.media.tumblr.com/f149ab0962c56790579d6044553f2b9c/tumblr_okjeljIxVz1voiqeko2_1280.png
> 
> Also this gorgeous art by MariaMediaHere (MariaMediarito on twitter) makes me wanna cry: http://mariamediahere.deviantart.com/art/Seungchuchu-Almavivo-674233994
> 
> I love reading comments but I'm terrible at replying to them them, so don't take it personally if I skip any or if my responses are lame, I truly just don't know how to reply but I promise I love every one.
> 
> And as usual, you can reach me on tumblr (http://lxporidae.tumblr.com/), if you want or need for any particular reason.


	9. Chapter 9

_How do you know_ -

Seung-gil scowls when one of the first autofills that comes up in the Google search bar is _how do you know you love someone._   

He clicks it anyway, and scrolls. 

_\- an obsession with that person -_  

Would he describe himself as being obsessed with Phichit? It's hard to say, really. Seung-gil tends to fixate unnaturally on whatever is at the forefront of his mind regardless of what that may be, a mental wiring that serves him very well when it comes to math and logic and the like, but very poorly when it comes to social situations. Obsessing over Phichit may just be the result of his mind choosing to fixate on this new piece of information present in his consciousness, this "friend" whose existence in his life is a novel and foreign concept. _Hardly_ proof of love, as far as he's concerned.

He keeps scrolling, growing crosser the more he reads. 

_\- your sense of self has evolved since knowing them -_  

It's true that Seung-gil has recently started evaluating his public persona more closely as of late, but that has more to do with the success of his skating programs than anything else. What more sense of self does he need otherwise? He's a skater who needs to get better at skating in order to win medals, and that's that. Objectively, Phichit embodies certain qualities when he's skating that Seung-gil does not, but that's just a fact - and that has nothing to do with love, either.

Idly he opens and skims a few articles, but it finally sinks in that consulting the internet on such a matter is pathetic, and he abandons his search shortly after. If this were a normal situation, Seung-gil would ask a friend for advice, particularly one who may have engaged in these sorts of feelings before. But at the realization that he _has_ no other friends, a slight panic begins to set in - he barely has other skaters he's even somewhat acquainted with, and no way in hell is he going to consult JJ on matters of the heart. He needs to talk to someone milder, someone who will listen to him without making fun of him, someone who is well-versed in relationships himself and who preferably knows Phichit fairly well. 

Of course, there's only one person who fits that description. 

He sets off for the Katsuki family onsen.

* * *

"Oh, hello again, Seung-gil-kun! Are you here to see Phichit-kun?" 

When the plump, smiling woman who is Hiroko Katsuki opens the door to greet him, Seung-gil remembers too late that Phichit himself is staying there at the onsen. What happens if he asks to talk to Yuuri and the subject of his anguish is right there beside him? That's an absolutely unacceptable result.  

As a cover, he blurts out the first bad excuse that comes to mind: "I want to pet Makkachin."  

Okay, so _maybe_ that's not the smoothest fake out he's ever pulled off. Still, he can roll with the excuse, and quickly gathers his composure. "Victor mentioned I could visit him if I so wished," he continues, hoping Yuuri's mother doesn't sense the anxiety bubbling underneath his calm exterior. "Being apart from my own dog for so long, it's rather difficult. I miss the companionship." 

It's clear she buys it, because her gaze softens. "I understand completely, Yuuri was the same with Vicchan when he went away to Detroit." It takes a moment for Seung-gil to process she's taking about another dog and not her son's fiancé. ( _..._ _Yuuri had a dog named after Victor?_ ) "Follow me, we can check if Yuuri or Victor is free. They might be out walking him, I'm not sure." 

Seung-gil follows her down the hallway, all the while glancing side to side, nervous Phichit is going to pop out at him like a jumpscare in a haunted house. When they reach Yuuri's room, his mother knocks lightly on the door. 

"Come in," calls the heavily accented voice of Victor. 

Seung-gil opens the door a crack, feeling more ridiculous by the moment. "It's Seung-gil. You said I could pet your dog," he says, almost accusatory.  

Victor merely beams. "Absolutely! Though I didn't think you would actually take me up on that. Come in, come in." 

Victor is lying on Yuuri's bed with his laptop propped against his knees, Makkachin curled up atop his feet. When the dog sees Seung-gil enter, he stands up and begins to wag his tail, the movement wiggling his entire body. As usual, Seung-gil can feel his general irritation melting away at the sight of the fluffy, jovial creature, and almost smiles, reaching out to scratch the dog under his chin. 

"You can sit down," Victor says kindly. 

Seung-gil turns back to Yuuri's mother. "Thank you," he says stiffly, dipping his head in a slight bow. 

She chuckles. "Enjoy your dog therapy." 

Seung-gil closes the door behind him and, after an affirmative hand gesture from Victor, climbs onto the end of the bed and settles down cross-legged. Makkachin trots over to curl up in his lap, and Seung-gil begins to stroke his fur, growing more relaxed the longer he pets him; the poodle's warmth gives him a sense of home and stability. Once his thoughts have settled, Seung-gil turns to the owner of the dog, the man now his only avenue for the conversation he had originally intended to have with Yuuri. "Victor, if you don't mind me asking - this query may seem rather sudden, but -" He swallows. "How did you know when you had feelings for Yuuri?" 

Belatedly it strikes him that this is his first ever one-on-one interaction with the five time Grand Prix champion. Victor Nikiforov is a living legend in the figure skating community, and _this_ is the question he chooses to ask? Not, _how do you pull off harder quads_ , or _how do you engage your audience so well during performances_ , or even _how long have you had Makkachin_. Instead he, Seung-gil Lee, who several days prior didn't give half a fuck about other people's relationships, has asked about the story behind Victor's soon-to-be husband. 

How absurd. 

Victor grins. "I met Yuuri when he seduced me drunk at last year's post Grand Prix party. He stripped his clothes off and hand a dance-off with me and Yurio. And that's when I decided I needed to get to know him better, this man who seemed like a lot of fun." 

"Stop messing with me." 

"I'm serious." 

_Perhaps I should be grateful I haven't placed in the Grand Prix, since I avoided having to witness that,_ Seung-gil thinks sourly, biting the inside of his cheek to prevent the rude words from spilling out. "Surely there was more than just... that?" 

"He helped me see the world in a new way and still does, every day. Before him I was so caught up in skating, stuck in my own mind, I had no idea how to have fun - I was just going through the motions every day. I was bored, and I think on some level my audience was bored of me too. With Yuuri I feel like I can reinvent myself." A shrug. "It's nothing that complicated, not really." 

"...Stuck in your own mind, huh?" 

"What was that?" 

Seung-gil shakes his head. "Nothing. Uh - why are you even sharing all this with me?" 

Victor tilts his head to one side. "Aren't you the one who asked?" 

"Yes, but - I didn't expect you to be so... _personal_ about it." 

"There's no reason for me not to be," Victor says. "Despite some backlash from my country and fans, I have nothing to hide when it comes to my relationship with Yuuri. Shouldn't I be the one who's surprised," he adds in a lighthearted tone, "that you're interested at all?" 

Seung-gil drops his gaze and focuses on running his fingers through Makkachin's fluffy fur. 

"Struggling with feelings of your own, perhaps?" 

"No," Seung-gil snaps a bit too abruptly. 

"I won't pass it on to anyone," Victor says. "Can't vouch for Makkachin, though. You won't tell anyone about Seung-gil's feelings, will you, Makkachin?"

Makkachin barks softly. 

Against his will Seung-gil finds himself smiling. Those damn cute dogs always get him; even if he was being executed he'd probably still smile if a cute dog trotted up to the guillotine and woofed at him. "I'm not sure," Seung-gil confesses. "I - well - I was intending to speak with Yuuri about this. I didn't mean to bother you with this in the first place." 

Victor shakes his head. "Not a bother at all." 

"If you say so." 

"I don't know where Yuuri is," Victor says, shuffling over to sit cross legged next to Seung-gil so he too can join in the petting of his dog. "So you'll have to deal with me for now, sorry. Never expected I'd be coaching _this_ sort of thing, too. Life really is full of surprises." 

His nose scrunches up at Victor's terrible joke. "Whatever. I don't really know what to say, anyway." 

"Maybe if you started out with _who_ , that might help me out a bit." 

Seung-gil remains silent. 

Victor laughs and reaches forward as though to ruffle his hair, before thinking better of it and retracting his arm. "I won't judge you. I save all my teasing for Yurio. Most of it, anyway." 

_Is that supposed to be comforting?_ "Well, I'm still not sure," Seung-gil mutters.

"Your love coach is here for you, to help you figure it out," Victor says seriously. 

"Don't call yourself that!" Seung-gil snaps, heat flushing his cheeks. Victor Nikiforov certainly isn't the same as Seung-gil would have expected given his star-studded reputation. "Just... stop. It's Phichit, okay? It's Phichit." 

A jolt of something akin to fear courses through him at the admission. Now that he's admitted it out loud to someone, there's no going back. It's been spoken and that makes it realer, somehow, only Seung-gil doesn't _want_ it to be real. He'd rather the pesky unwanted feeling just cease and desist and leave him alone - but it's far too late for that. 

"Oh, that makes sense," Victor says far too casually, much to Seung-gil's distress. "You two seem to be hanging out a lot more lately. At least, what I can tell from Instagram. So what's the issue, exactly?" 

"What do you mean, what's the issue?!" Seung-gil barks. "I can't have those kinds of feelings for him! It's - it's -" 

"It's what?" 

"It's a waste of time and energy!" 

Victor's expression is unreadable. "Why is that?" 

"Romance clouds your judgment," Seung-gil says robotically, forgetting who he's talking to. He recites the reasoning he's repeated many times to make himself feel better about being an outsider to love. "You don't think straight, you rely on others far too much and you become needy. Then you begin to act like a fool in public, then they leave you and you feel _more_ like a fool, and that's why it's pointless to waste that energy in the first place." He's worked up. Why is he worked up, and why is he letting himself spill everything to Victor or all people? Is he really that desperate to get it off his chest? The more he explains himself, the worse he feels. _This whole interaction is a mistake._  

"Leave you?" Victor looks at him with kindness that may be pity, and Seung-gil wants to slap him. "You're worried Phichit will leave you?" 

"No!" 

"You're worried he would leave you because you're not personable and he is. You're antisocial and gruff and can't express your feelings. So why would someone like that take any interest in you? That's your reasoning, am I correct?"

It stings. Seung-gil had heard vague rumors about Victor becoming nasty when need be, targeting the insecurities of the skaters he was coaching to spur them into action to fix their mistakes. But he'd never thought he'd be on the receiving end of such treatment. And the worst part is that in his vicious way, Victor is absolutely right. "Stop," he snaps. It's all he can think of to say.

"It _could_ be sustainable in the long run," Victor says, disregarding the plea, "if you broke out of your comfort zone and started interacting with him more warmly. But you'll never make progress if you don't make an effort. To be honest, right now, the way you act, I wouldn't want to date you either."

In that moment Seung-gil has had about enough of this conversation and the man's smug attitude. He stands abruptly, eliciting a quiet whine from Makkachin (whose fur he ruffles by way of an apology). "Shut up," he snarls, because fuck this guy's five gold medals from the Grand Prix - all they've done is make him a Grand Prick. "I'm done with this conversation, I'm leaving. I shouldn't have told you anything."

"If you can't handle the truth -"

"I said shut up!" Seung-gil yells, and Victor falls silent. "You have no idea how hard it is for me, you have Yuuri. You have no right to judge me!"

Seung-gil can't remember the last time he's lashed out like this. Normally his emotions are under control - that is to say, he doesn't feel much of them at all. But Victor just _had_ to go and lay bare the worst parts of him like it was nothing, and it makes him angry. Angry and scared, with some additional self-loathing for good measure. 

The five time Russian champion is a frighteningly perceptive man when he wants to be. 

"I was so sucked into skating," Victor says quietly after a pause, and it takes a moment for Seung-gil to process the other is launching into a personal anecdote, "that I never thought of anything else. I was fixated on winning. Every season I obsessed over every program, what I needed to pull off to secure another win. I had no friends, no one I was emotionally close to. My entire sense of self hinged on the gold medals around my neck. But my successes never made me happy. Opening up to Yuuri, and his family - _that's_ what made me happy. And it wasn't easy." Victor's gaze bores into him. "I do understand, even if you don't think I do. We all have our public personas, Seung-gil," Victor adds in a knowing voice that gives him chills. "But it's how we act around the people we care about that defines us. I've only realized that recently. Hopefully you will, too."

_Victor and I are the same, in a way,_ Seung-gil realizes sullenly, _trapped_ _in our own minds. Except he's a prodigy and I don't have the skill to get past it. All I have is the boredom and the inability to open up. The same qualities that make him a struggling champion just make_ me _a loser._ "I apologize for raising my voice," Seung-gil says, and suddenly he's so exhausted, the outburst having drained all the energy from his body. Social interaction is so hard; he wonders why he even bothered coming here in the first place. "I don't want to talk about it anymore."

Victor says nothing, just watches him intently as he moves to leave.

"Thanks for letting me pet your dog," Seung-gil adds lamely, ducking out before Victor has a chance to respond and say something else that will eat his self esteem alive. 

The Russian champion's words haunt him the entire way back to the hotel. He regrets opening up at all, but the bottom line of what Victor had said to him rings infuriatingly true: the way he is right now, there's no reason Phichit would like him the same way, much less want to date him. He's an unpleasant person and he's not sure he has it within himself to change that. Why subject someone so unabashedly kind to his sullen attitude and cynical quirks? It's best just to leave Phichit alone to live his disgustingly happy life without him, erase all traces of this budding friendship from his mind, and move on with his existence. 

Determined to set that plan into action immediately, Seung-gil spends the rest of the day by himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter feels odd to me. Writing Victor is certainly an experience.
> 
> As always, thank you for all your supportive comments! They keep me alive.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Turns out Seung-gil's dog is a Siberian Husky. Yet another small detail I went back and edited. I'm determined to fix all the mistakes in this as more canon information comes out, so bear with me for a lot of minor editing (and re-editing).

There's a knock on his door the following morning.  

 

Seung-gil drags himself out of bed to answer the sound. More likely than not it's JJ here to antagonize him yet again, the worst possible smug mug to wake up to in the morning. Fully prepared to sneer something disgusted at the Canadian eyesore and then slam the door in his face, Seung-gil opens up to see - 

"P-Phichit?"

Quickly he attempts to reform his expression into something less malicious. Now that he realizes the person at his door is someone whose opinion actually matters, Seung-gil becomes acutely aware of his own appearance, the embarrassingly childish pajamas and the untamed bedhead sticking up in unruly tangles. Without thinking he reaches up to smooth it down and snags one of his fingers in a loop of hair with a grimace.

"Cute pajamas," Phichit comments during the lull.   

Seung-gil tugs on his collar a bit self consciously but doesn't comment. Instead he just replies, stiffly: "Good morning."

"I texted your phone, but when you didn't respond I figured I'd just come over... I'm really sorry if I woke you up!" Phichit bites his lip with worry. "I just felt guilty, because I told you I'd text you after I hung out with Yuuri but I totally forgot, that's not a very good friend thing of me to do."

"You're fine," Seung-gil assures him, not sure how else to deal with the unnecessary apology.

" _...Did_ I wake you?"

"Yes," Seung-gil admits, "but I was not in a particularly deep sleep to begin with. Really, don't think of it. Would you like to - actually, just come in," Seung-gil amends hastily, pulling Phichit into his room by the arm and quickly shutting the door behind him. God forbid JJ runs into Phichit loitering outside his room and starts questioning him about their relationship - and knowing his luck thus far, that's exactly what would happen.

Seung-gil turns back to Phichit, whose gaze is trained on him expectantly, though what exactly he expects is a mystery. Will he be able to meet those expectations regardless of what they are? Probably not. His decision the night prior to cut Phichit off and avoid a potential social disaster further down the line floats unbidden to the forefront of his mind. 

_I don't think you should waste your time on me._ The words are on the tip of his tongue, but glancing again at Phichit's bright eyes gives him serious pause. Normal social interactions may give him no end of trouble, but what he does know for a fact is that he enjoys being around Phichit and he doesn't want that to end. Perhaps it's selfish, but he doesn't want to deny himself that small amount of happiness, even if he is a drag to be around.

_Fuck Victor and fuck lying down on the ground and giving up like a defeatist_.

Instead he takes the risk of asking an honest question. "Do you think I'm unpleasant?"

 Phichit blinks. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I - I don't want you to think that," he admits. "I want to keep doing things together." There goes his grand plan to purposely avoid Phichit, right out the window. "But I also don't want you to just put up with me because you're nice and would put up with anyone. If that's the case, I'd rather not hang out with you at all. I don't like being pitied."

"Relax, I'm not pitying you!" Phichit has the nerve to roll his eyes, and even more irritating is that Seung-gil finds the reaction cute rather than insulting. "And I'm not putting up with you either, geez. Who planted that weird idea in your head?"

"No one," Seung-gil grumbles. He'd rather die right there on the spot than admit he went to Victor Nikiforov for misguided relationship advice about a relationship that didn't even yet exist. "I was just... thinking."

"Think less, honestly - take my word for it," Phichit says sternly. "That's your problem, Seung-gil. You think too much."

"I have other problems," Seung-gil replies impulsively, which elicits a laugh from the other.

"You're way too hard on yourself, it's painful to listen to," Phichit says. "Forget all that, I still wanna hang out, okay?"

His tone is gentle, putting Seung-gil's mind at ease. He coughs to cover up the beginnings of a smile. "All right."  _I want to hang out with you, too._

Phichit seems satisfied, relieved almost, as though he too had feared losing the friendship, but Seung-gil is afraid to push his luck and doesn't ask. "Hey, do you wanna dance again?"

"Right now?"

Phichit punches him lightly in the shoulder. "No, silly, I meant with Minako-sensei in the studio. Unless you want to right now?"

"There's not enough room in here for that."

"Always so practical," Phichit teases. 

"You could do with more practicality," Seung-gil retorts, and suddenly all the thoughts that had gathered while watching Phichit's skating routine come spilling out at once. "In your routines, you rely way too much on your appeal, but technically you're lacking. I'm frankly not surprised at your placement in the Grand Prix and would suggest in the future that - why are you laughing?"

Because indeed, Phichit's arms are now circled around his body to prevent himself from shaking violently with laughter. "You're so damn blunt, it's adorable. You do know I never asked for your advice, right?"

Warmth floods his cheeks. "I was out of line, I apologize."

Phichit grins. "I'm just teasing you, of course I know why I placed last. I look up to you, you know. Your focus on technique, I mean."

Seung-gil's stomach does a flip. "Oh," he says lamely.

"But your public persona is terrible. You're like a grumpy cat that hisses when people touch you."

"I'm a dog person," Seung-gil mutters.

Phichit ignores him. "Imagine if you and I like, fused into one person or something. We'd have it all."

Seung-gil shudders. "That's a gross image, don't say that."

More laughter. "You never answered the dance question."

Seung-gil shelves his embarrassment for the time being and considers the question seriously. "I'm not sure I really need to keep going with that... I was merely trying to, er - _loosen up and have fun._ Or... whatever. But in the end, I only had fun because you're fun. It's not really about the dancing, I don't think... I felt sort of ridiculous doing it. So probably not."

"You're giving _me_ the credit for that?" Phichit asks, his voice tinged with something oddly like awe. "In that case, we really should hang out more! I wanna help you have as much fun as possible, Seung-gil."

Too late Seung-gil realizes what he'd said, and heat washes over his cheeks not for the first time that morning. If they keep this conversation up, he's going to have a fever by noon. "I mean, if you're not opposed."

"Not at all." 

Is it truly possible for one human being to be this kind? Perhaps Phichit isn't human at all - perhaps he's some sort of angelic being sent from the heavens to test Seung-gil's otherwise impeccable willpower. If that's the case, then he's most definitely losing the battle. He's already told Victor that he likes Phichit, and now that he's admitted it out loud to another person, the thought is so damn pervasive that he constantly feels jittery, like he's downed several coffees containing pure concentrated anxiety rather than caffeine.

"We could watch that movie," Seung-gil suggests halfheartedly, only speaking up at all so that he can escape his own muddled thoughts. "The, uh, sequel to the one we watched before." Of course he remembers the title, but for whatever reason he'd rather Phichit think otherwise. Wouldn't want him to get the idea that Seung-gil is  _obsessed_ with him and his interests or anything, _heavens_ no. (Even if that idea may be more accurate than he'd ever care to admit.)

" _The King and the Skater II?_ "

"Yeah, that one."

Phichit brightens considerably. "Yeah? You wanna do that?"

 "Sure. I mean, if you want to? I'm awake, so why not."

 "Gimme your laptop, I can try to pull it up."

"All right. I'll change out of my pajamas while you do that."

"Mmkay."

Seung-gil digs through his bag to find a plain blue long sleeved shirt and black pants - perhaps the least offensive combination of clothes he can come up with from his limited options - and shrugs out of his pajamas without modesty. Why should he care about being mostly naked, especially when Phichit is intent on his screen and he's changed in a locker room countless times? That sort of bodily self-consciousness never crosses Seung-gil's mind.

He's zipped his pants and has one arm through his shirt when Phichit's voice causes him to freeze.

"Oh, you really _have_ been watching my skating routines."

If he wasn't self-conscious before, he certainly is now. Were the tabs of the videos of Phichit's performances still open, Seung-gil wonders, or did Phichit's name and skating history show up in his autofill? Even worse - is his ridiculous search history (namely, the dreaded  _how do you know you love someone_ article) laid bare for Phichit to see? He can't ask, but if it _is_ open and Phichit looks at it and closes it, then he'll never know, an eternal tortured ignorance that at this point he probably deserves.

"I -" Seung-gil swallows dryly, tugging his other arm through his shirt and smoothing out the fabric anxiously with the palms of his hands. "Yes, I was. Studying your routines a fellow competitor," he makes sure to add. "I already told you that - now give me back my laptop." The evil glint in Phichit's eye is not to be trusted.

"Relax, I'm just teasing," Phichit says, patting the bed next to him. "I pulled the movie up, whenever you're ready." 

Seung-gil climbs into bed next to the other, casting a quick glance at his tabs and relieved that none other appear to be open. Phichit scoots closer and angles the screen for both of them, and Seung-gil immediately grows lightheaded when the other's thigh brushes up against his own. Perhaps this is what imminent death feels like.

_No, you fucking imbecile,_ his own mind reprimands himself. _It's a crush, deal with it._ But he doesn't know  _how_ to deal with it - and therein lies the eternal problem.

Seung-gil quietly takes a deep breath.

"I kinda miss those pajamas of yours," Phichit says. "They're adorable."

"I will not be putting them back on," Seung-gil replies stiffly, "until evening, when I go to sleep."

"Maybe I should get a matching pair."

"I don't remember where I purchased th- aren't we supposed to be watching a movie?" Phichit certainly is skilled at distracting him from - well, from pretty much _everything._

Phichit sticks his tongue out, and presses play.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for being patient with me as I work on other drabbles. (Not that you really have a choice, you're all at the mercy of my irregular updates.)
> 
> And of course, thanks as usual for your seemingly endless support!
> 
> Seung-gil's wake-up call:  
> https://68.media.tumblr.com/d902853968b69cb91b50c88875f6e848/tumblr_okjeljIxVz1voiqeko3_r1_1280.png  
> https://68.media.tumblr.com/9f2dbf4118da3bd4a24d4754420d9516/tumblr_okjeljIxVz1voiqeko4_r1_1280.png


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't respond to most of my last chapter comments because I got mildly overwhelmed, sorry about that. Either way though I read (and reread) all of them and they keep me warm through these cold winter months. Thank you to everyone who takes the time to comment, it's great and I love it.

"The original movie was better. Sequels always take liberties when it comes to plot."  

"Geez, you're merciless right off the bat. You should be a movie critic." 

"Then I'd have to waste my life watching terrible movies. Doesn't sound like my idea of a good time."  

The two of them are out jogging on Hasetsu's beach on Seung-gil's suggestion. Seung-gil's legs had cramped watching the movie on his bed with Phichit, and now all his limbs tingle with restlessness. Normally he'd get up much earlier to jog, but this morning he had missed out due to having overslept in his rare fit of sluggishness (and emotional unbalance).

Early morning or not, it's still quite chilly outside. The wind permeates through his layers, and his skin is stiff and cold like meat from the frozen food isle of the supermarket. On the plus side, the weather would make the warm ramen lunch Phichit had promised him later taste even better; his friend had suggested they return to the restaurant he had visited with Leo and Guang Hong while Seung-gil had been tied up with JJ's group, and Seung-gil had readily hopped on board with the plan.

Phichit rolls his eyes. "Anyway, is there anything you  _did_  enjoy about it?"  

"Well, the special effects in the sequel were better, I'll give it that. But that's to be expected given ever-evolving technology." 

"Aren't there any movies you actually like?" 

Seung-gil's mind flashes back to watching _Eight Below_ with Korean subtitles back in primary school. He _may_ or may not have grown slightly weepy at the deaths of the huskies, but that's a weakness to expose another day. Or, alternatively, never. "I didn't say I disliked either of the movies," Seung-gil says instead, a bit defensively. "Isn't it worthwhile to analyze things even if they're good overall?" 

Phichit shrugs, a gesture which bounces his shoulders as he runs. "I don't really do that. If I like something, I just sorta... like it, you know?" 

Seung-gil blinks. "I can't say I relate," he admits. "I suppose you're right about me thinking too much." 

"That's not a bad thing," Phichit says. "It just makes us different. I like listening to you analyze stuff, I think it's interesting." 

"It's not," Seung-gil mutters, but as usual Phichit just chuckles. 

"But you do sometimes think too much," Phichit adds thoughtfully. "Sometimes you've just gotta be more spontaneous." 

As if to punctuate his point, he playfully pushes Seung-gil into the water. 

Hasetsu's ocean in the winter is horrifically frigid, a fact Seung-gil had not been intending to learn but which he does so immediately as the salty freezing hell permeates all the layers of his clothing. He's only submerged for a moment before scrambling to his feet and leaping out of the water as though having been electrocuted, spluttering and coughing and pushing now sopping bangs out of his stinging eyes."Wh-what was that for?!" Seung-gil stammers, shivering convulsively. He hugs his own body in a vain attempt to retain heat, but he can't stop his knees from rattling together and he's afraid his legs are going to buckle and he'll pass out in the sand. 

Phichit's smile looks a lot more forced than usual. "...Spontaneity?"   

"It's w-way t-too d-damn c-cold f-for that!" His lips are shaking too much to keep a single word steady, and he briefly wonders if hypothermia may be in his future. Moodily he glowers at Phichit, an effect somewhat ruined by his chattering teeth. 

"I'm sorry, er - I sort of expected that to be funnier than it was?" Phichit rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. "You're not too mad at me, are you?" 

Seung-gil's energy is solely focused on not keeling over and he thus has none left for anger towards Phichit. That, and Phichit has a face that's impossible to be mad at. Seung-gil doubts he would have been angry even if Phichit had shot him instead of shoving him into the ocean. "I'm c-cold," is all he says. 

"Um, you could push me in too, then we'd be even?" 

Seung-gil shakes his head vigorously - or maybe it's only vigorous because he can't stop shaking in the first place. "Let's j-just g-go inside s-somewhere," he pleads. 

"Yuuri's place is close," Phichit says hurriedly. "We didn't go in the onsen before, so I guess now's our chance. That'll heat you up for sure." Phichit grabs Seung-gil's hand, which he doesn't notice at first due to his appendages having gone numb, and tugs him forward quickly until the two of them are practically sprinting towards Yu-topia Katsuki, the speed making the wind seem even more vicious and the cold even worse. Somehow Seung-gil still can't bring himself to be upset, though maybe he would be later once he regains feeling in his body.

Hiroko Katsuki is bombarded by a flurry of Phichit's apologies as he bursts in through the door with Seung-gil in tow, the two kicking off their shoes haphazardly in the entrance - Seung-gil's with significantly more of a  _squelch_ \- before Phichit drags him to the shower room at breakneck speed. Seung-gil is aware that he's leaving a trail of wet footprints across the Katsuki floor that he probably ought to apologize for himself later, but for now all his mind can focus on is stripping and getting under one of the shower heads. With his shaking hands he can't even grip the zipper of his jacket long enough to unzip it, and Phichit has to assist him, but once he's fully freed from the wet garments Seung-gil gives an audible sigh, and then an even louder one once he's turned on the hot water. He almost cries with relief as he washes his hair and body, his limbs regaining mobility and feeling as though he's just crawled back from the brink of death.

Seung-gil spends far longer under the shower than Phichit, who's already cleaned off and is soaking in the bath with a serene expression. Seung-gil steps in after him, and whatever tension is left in his body is immediately released when he submerges, the warmth of the water enveloping and thawing whatever tinge of frostbite still lingers on his frozen appendages. 

"It's nice, huh?" 

"Mmhmm," he hums drowsily, lowering his face so that only his face from the nose up is peeking out of the water. 

"I'm sorry again about, er, pushing you in the water. I didn't realize it was so cold -" 

Seung-gil raises his mouth above the water. "I'm fine." He wishes he knew what to say to stop Phichit from feeling so guilty over something so inconsequential and harmless, but since he doesn't, that's as much as he can muster. Besides, no matter how much Seung-gil enjoys the other's company, even he has to agree that Phichit's actions had been stupid. Perhaps he ought to just let him apologize. 

"Seung-gil, why was the theme of your skating program greed?" 

Typically, the topic is swinging back around to himself. "Why do you care so much about my program?" He huffs, which is a mistake with his face so close to the water, because he inhales some of the liquid and begins to cough. 

"You okay there?" 

"Yeah," he says sulkily once he's steadied his breathing. 

"Anyway, are you really one to talk? You've been looping _my_ programs." 

"I wasn't looping them!" Seung-gil says, scandalized. "I just watched them once or twice so that - I don't know! So that we had something to talk about." It's humiliating to admit, and he lowers himself deeper into the bath, cheeks warm and not just because of the steam. 

"That's really sweet," Phichit enthuses. "You know, I watched yours too." 

Seung-gil says nothing. 

"Your free skate was really nice." 

"I messed up a lot," Seung-gil says sourly. 

"You did better during the NHK Trophy though, right?" Phichit presses. "You placed silver. And besides, you had bad luck to be stuck with both Yuris _and_ JJ at the Rostelecom Cup. I never would have placed with all that pressure, either." 

"It wasn't pressure, I just wasn't _good_ enough," Seung-gil says, and the conversation dredges up old frustration unnecessarily. "My theme was greed because I wanted to win. And I didn't. So that's that." 

Phichit is quiet for a while, contemplatively staring at the bath's glassy surface and the minute waves that ripple across it each time either one of them moves. "I didn't, either. Win, I mean." 

"You qualified," Seung-gil retorts. 

"Some of that was just luck," Phichit shoots back. "At the China Cup, when I did my routines, in that moment I was at the top of my game and I was in a block with people who, in that moment, I could outperform. But technically, I'm not up there with the Yuris, or Chris, or even you. The Grand Prix final was a lot more intense than I ever could have imagined it would be, and it made me feel a little inadequate... I don't know if I'll ever be able to place in the Grand Prix, or if I'll ever be at the same level as those prodigies. And then with Victor coming back... it scares me, a little." 

All this time Seung-gil had put the other on a pedestal because Phichit had placed where he himself had not. But now that he listens to the other's words, Seung-gil has to admit that he's right - his missteps during the Rostelecom Cup were as unlucky as Phichit's performance was lucky. No matter how much you practice, live performances don't always show off the hard work you've put in. Perhaps he had been overstating Phichit's prowess, or perhaps he had been selling himself short. Or both. "I feel the same," is all he says, because it's true. 

"But I still love to skate, no matter what," Phichit says. 

"Me too," Seung-gil agrees.  

"I've always wanted to share my love of skating with Thailand, even if I don't end up placing in the Grand Prix before I retire," Phichit says, and there's a dreamy expression in his eyes. "I've always dreamed of putting on some sort of ice show in the future - get all my friends together, have some sort of insane, colorful performance, and broadcast it to the world. And then people will see how cool and fun skating can be, and I could inspire some of the younger generation of Thailand to start skating. At least, that's the idea." He pauses."I haven't really ever told anyone about that before. It sounds kinda silly, doesn't it?"  

Seung-gil shakes his head. "It's nice." He thinks for a moment. "If anyone could do it, it'd be you." 

Phichit grins. "Maybe if our competitive careers don't work out, we can join forces in the future and spread a love of skating together. How's that sound?" 

The thought of _the future_ and _together_ is enough to make Seung-gil consider drowning himself in the bath. "Maybe," he says, averting his eyes. 

"I'm not forcing you or anything," Phichit adds hurriedly. "I, um, it was just a thought. Who knows what you'll be doing in a few years."

Seung-gil pictures the most statistically likely scenario: a lonely future with just himself and his dog in his apartment, scrolling through Phichit's Instagram feed, full of selfies posed with people more interesting to hang out with than he is. His heart aches - and not in the pleasant way.

He remains silent, and Phichit as usual seems to pick up on his discomfort, because he hurriedly attempts to change the subject. "A-anyway. Yuuri's mom said she was making us katsudon again." 

"What about the ramen place?" 

"It'd take a while to go back there, and I don't really wanna go back out." Phichit nudges his shoulder with one hand. "Besides, aren't you hungry?" 

Seung-gil nods.

"It'll give us something to do together on another day, yeah?"

"...Mmhmm."

This "vacation" isn't going to last forever, Seung-gil thinks to himself. The number of days he has to spend time with Phichit is limited, but soon he'll be alone again. And after all the legitimate fun he's had, going back to his boring antisocial life now will be an even ruder awakening. He doesn't want to think about that.

So he shoves it into the back of his mind and instead focuses on anticipating katsudon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slow slow burn is slow.
> 
> I absolutely adored Eight Below as a kid, I think I saw it when I was around nine? Just thinking about it makes me all emotional again, I'd absolutely recommend it if you like heartwarming dog stories with surprisingly minimal dog death. It has a bunch of huskies too so I figured it was particularly fitting for Seung-gil.
> 
> My fr- I mean mysterious Santa drew this lovely art of Seung-gil and Phichit in the onsen: https://68.media.tumblr.com/aad17fbff7f4a22a4da388d3cd3604f4/tumblr_okjeljIxVz1voiqeko5_r1_500.jpg


	12. Chapter 12

Two unfortunate events occur as the result of his romp with Phichit in the freezing ocean. The first is that when Seung-gil awakens the following morning, he finds to his chagrin that he's incredibly feverish and sluggish - he can't even remember the last time he'd gotten sick before now. When Phichit texts him asking if he wants to reschedule their ramen meal for today, he regrets that his condition forces him to decline the offer, and feels even more guilty when Phichit apologizes as though it's his own fault Seung-gil is sick. Of course that's absurd, but Seung-gil isn't able to get Phichit to stop blaming himself, which frustrates him.

The second and arguably much worse event is that JJ of all people arrives at his door in the afternoon to check up on him, and in his weakened state there's nothing Seung-gil can do to stop the overzealous Canadian from barging right in. He sets a bowl of something down on Seung-gil's bedside table and sits next to him on the edge of the bed, peering at Seung-gil with a mixture of amusement and concern. "Phichit told me to take care of you."

"Bullshit," Seung-gil snaps, though his gravelly voice takes the edge off somewhat. "You're just here to bother me like you always do."

JJ pouts. "No, I'm serious. He said he wanted me to check in on you until he had a chance to come over. He promised the reporters at the ice rink an interview, so he couldn't come right away. See?" Before Seung-gil can express his disbelief, JJ whips out his phone (clad in a maple leaf-patterned case, typical) and holds the too-bright screen irritatingly close to Seung-gil's bleary eyes.

_Hey babe!_

_Hope you're having fun in Japan!_

_Love you and miss you lots, it's JJ style ♥_

"Those texts are from your damn girlfriend."

"Oh, are they?" JJ flashes him an infuriating grin, clearly having made the "mistake" on purpose. "My bad. But hey, she's pretty great, don't you think?"

"Show me what Phichit sent you," Seung-gil demands, staring at JJ stubbornly until he switches the text conversation displayed on his screen.

_hey sorry to bother you but i think i made seung-gil sick ;;_

_can you check in on him and tell him ill be by later?_

_tell him im bringing a surprise_

_hopefully it makes up for it..._

"He didn't make me sick," Seung-gil says, shooting an accusatory look at JJ as though he's the one who authored the comment. "I just _got_ sick."

"Defending your future husband, how cute," JJ croons, reaching out to ruffle Seung-gil's hair.

As usual, Seung-gil swats the offending hand away with his own and ignores the comment. "Get lost."

"Aw, that's not a nice thing to say when I took the time to come over and check on you. And I even made you soup," JJ says, handing him the bowl, but his voice wavers as if he's trying not to laugh, and Seung-gil is instantly afraid to look inside.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me."

It's alphabet soup - sort of.  The term _alphabet_  here can only be used very loosely, because the only letters to be seen are... Js. This cheeky Canadian bastard has taken the time and energy to remove every single other letter just so the soup spells out his fucking initials. Seung-gil wants to die just looking at it.

"...It's JJ soup style."

"Fuck off, I don't wanna eat this."

JJ grins. "Now there's the reaction I was expecting. I knew it'd ruffle your little parrot feathers a bit so I couldn't resist. The soup's still good, I promise! You can eat it with your eyes closed if you want."

Seung-gil gives his unwanted company a stormy glare before raising the spoon to his lips. The warmth and fragrance of the soup are too tempting to resist in his weakened state no matter how many Js are in it, and it is admittedly rather tasty as JJ has boasted. Besides, Seung-gil can just pretend the letters stand for _jackass jerk_ and then the joke is on JJ. It's a childish thought, but he has to fight to keep the smirk off his face. 

"It's good, isn't it?"

"It's all right," Seung-gil says airily, because no way in hell is he going to inflate the Canadian's giant maple-leaf-shaped ego any more than necessary. "Thanks. I guess."

JJ beams. "I can make a mean packaged soup mix when given the chance." He leans closer, clearly not worried about whether or not Seung-gil's current affliction is contagious. "Have you talked to anyone about your problem?"

"The fever? I'm fine. It will pass."

JJ sighs loudly. "Not the fever. The crush. On Phichit."

Seung-gil says nothing.

"I'll listen to whatever you need to talk about. I have a girlfriend - I can give you all the relationship advice I know. C'mon, open up just a little?"

Seung-gil says nothing.

"I really do care about you, since we're friends and all," JJ says, and he begins shaking Seung-gil by the shoulders as if to force the words out of him.

"You're gonna make me spill the soup!" Seung-gil squawks. "Stop touching me."

JJ backs off. "I'm really just trying to help you."

"Well, you're not."

"I just wanted to listen, if you were willing to talk," JJ says, and he fidgets, an uncharacteristically awkward gesture for a man who normally acts as though he's royalty. "But I guess you've got too much of a stick up your ass to accept it."

"Guess so," Seung-gil snaps, but the hurt on JJ's face is too much to bear no matter how much Seung-gil dislikes him, so he adds, "I just - I don't feel like talking about it. So back off."

Before JJ can respond, there's a knock on the door, followed by a bark. The interruption is welcome, as Seung-gil isn't sure he'd be able to stand having a heart-to-heart with this guy. JJ stands up to open the door (flashing Seung-gil a smile and a wink as he does so, much to his disgust) and Seung-gil's heart leaps as Phichit walks in with Makkachin - the _other_ cutest living being currently in Hasetsu - in tow.

"Makkachin wanted to see how you were doing," Phichit says even as Makkachin launches himself onto the bed and settles himself down in a warm ball, pinning Seung-gil's legs. Seung-gil doesn't mind, though, and leans forward as much as he's able to give the dog a fond scratch between the ears. "Victor let me borrow him to visit you."

"I'll leave the rest to you, then," JJ says as he sidles out, and Seung-gil can practically feel the tension leaving his body as JJ exits.

"Thanks for passing on my message," Phichit says, then turns back to Seung-gil once the door is shut. "Hey, how are you feeling? I feel awful that I got you sick... I'm a horrible friend."

"You're not. The only horrible thing you did was send JJ of all people to take care of me," Seung-gil complains. "Now I have an even bigger headache."

Phichit huffs. "Hey, I know he's not your first choice, but I wanted someone to check up on you either way. And he was close by. Besides, I think he cares about you even if you don't wanna believe it."

"You're right, I don't."

Phichit chuckles, climbing into bed next to him, and it feels natural enough that Seung-gil doesn't bat an eye. "You really don't like that guy."

"We've established that."

Phichit leans in to peer at his face. "Are you sure you're okay? You look kinda pale. I still feel really bad... you got sick because I pushed you into the ocean and it was freezing. I never should have done that, even as a joke."

Seung-gil shrugs. "I could have wound up with a fever either way, who knows. Besides, it'll pass within the day, I'm sure. I don't get sick that often."

"Really? Even without eating vegetables?" Phichit asks teasingly.

Seung-gil scoffs. "What do vegetables have to do with anything?"

"They keep you healthy."

"I'm plenty healthy without them," Seung-gil mutters sulkily.

Phichit laughs. "If you say so."

They both sit in relative silence for a while, both petting Makkachin who loves the attention, and Seung-gil ponders what he should say. Headache aside, it's pathetically difficult to figure out what to say to Phichit when the conversation lags. Of course that has nothing to do with his friend, just Seung-gil's own pathetic lack of social skills. Not for the first time, he wonders why Phichit even takes the time to hang out with him when he's so damn  _boring_. 

Luckily Phichit notices the pause and pipes up to fill it. "Makkachin is so cute. I wish I could have a dog, but I wouldn't be home enough to take care of it, and they don't let you keep big animals in the dorms where I was training, just small ones that can fit in cages..." A shrug. "But I wanna meet your dog someday, Seung-gil."

"He's in Korea."

"Then I'll have to visit you in Korea sometime! Or when you go home next week, I'll stuff myself in your luggage. They'll never catch me."

"The X-rays at the airport would pick up on you," Seung-gil replies logically, trying not to dwell on the thought of Phichit visiting him at home. "And you might suffocate. I can't be responsible for a fellow competitor's death. It would ruin my skating career."

"You've got quite the dark sense of humor."

He coughs awkwardly. "If you ever do visit Korea, and need a place to stay - well, it'd be impractical to spend extra money on a hotel when - when you know someone residing there."

"You can just say I can come over," Phichit says, nudging his shoulder. "Listening to you talk around it is pretty cute, though."

"...You can come over," Seung-gil mumbles quickly, praying for this particular line of conversation to end. Perhaps he shouldn't have been so quick to disparage the silence.

Phichit tilts his head with mock innocence. "Come over? But I'm already here."

"I meant to Korea!"

"I know what you meant, I was just joking."

Seung-gil gently _thwacks_ the back of his head. " _Your_ sense of humor is just absurd."

"You smiled a little, though."

"Did not."

Phichit sticks his tongue out. "Did too, did too."

Two thoughts invade his mind at once, _I should just tell him and get it over with_ and _I can't bear the thought of ruining this comfortable banter we've built up between us_. Seung-gil imagines himself saying those dreadful words, _I like you_ , and watching Phichit's smile freeze awkwardly on his lips, as he stammers out an apology and flees the room and leaves Seung-gil more lonely than before they had met. No amount of fever will get him to take that risk.

Yet at the same time he can't get over how Phichit is so warm and only a little smaller than him, the perfect size to hug to his frame like his dog. And if he did that, maybe Phichit would reciprocate after all, and ruffle his hair, or nuzzle into his chest, or kiss his neck. Every one of those thoughts fills him with self-loathing and longing all at once; Seung-gil tries to remember how annoyed he'd felt that first night, when Yuuri and Victor had been shoving their tongues down each other's throats at the dinner table, but rather than irritation, all it summons is an ugly twang of jealousy that startles him.

"Did too," Seung-gil echoes absently.

"So you admit you were smiling."

"Huh?" Was he the one saying _not_ or _too_? He can't even remember what they were saying before he distracted himself. "Is... that what we were talking about?"

Phichit looks worried. "Are you sure you're okay? Maybe I should leave you alone to rest."

"No," Seung-gil replies too rapidly. "I mean. What if I need something?"

"You could call JJ for that."

"Don't leave me with him," Seung-gil pleads.

Phichit winks. "I'm kidding. I'm flattered you want my company."

Seung-gil tries to come up with some way to refute that claim. "If you leave, you'll have to take Makkachin back," he mutters. "I like having him here."

"You really like using that dog as an excuse," Phichit says. "Silly Seung-gil."

Seung-gil is a bit confused. "What do you mean by that?" he asks, raising an eyebrow. "An excuse - what? When else have I used Makkachin as an excuse?"

Phichit immediately looks uncomfortable, a reaction that Seung-gil can't fathom. He wonders if he's said something wrong without meaning to, but he doesn't have the conversational wherewithal to figure it out. "It's - I just meant dogs in general. You don't have to use the dog as an excuse if you want me to - to stick around, you know?"

Phichit is still acting suspicious, but there's no sense overthinking it - Seung-gil is already miserable enough at reading cues without added complications. "I don't do that," he huffs instead. "I just like having dogs around."

"And me?"

"And - and you, I guess."

Phichit grins. "I like having you around, too. Oh - since I'm here, wanna watch another movie? I mean, if you're up for it."

"I think I might close my eyes for a bit, actually," Seung-gil confesses. "I still feel a bit sick." He wants to blame the _JJ soup style_ or whatever the fuck it was for poisoning him, but begrudgingly he has to admit that he's merely tired from the fever. Honestly the soup had helped, as much as he's loathe to admit it.

Phichit nods. "That's fair. If you wanna nap, I'll just pet Makkachin and check my phone."

"You won't get bored?"

"Please, _me_ bored on my phone?" Phichit rolls his eyes. "Don't worry about it."

"If you're sure..."

"I'm sure."

Seung-gil shrugs. "Night, then."

Phichit ruffles his hair, but Seung-gil doesn't swat his hand away like he had with JJ. In fact, for whatever reason when Phichit does it, it feels sort of nice. That's the last coherent thought Seung-gil has before he nods off, exhaustion swallowing him mere moments after he's subconsciously snuggled up to Phichit, absorbing his body heat. He's too tired to feel any sort of embarrassment or self-consciousness, and too tired to notice when Phichit sets his phone down and dozes off as well, his arm absentmindedly draped across Seung-gil's side.

(Even if he had noticed, he wouldn't have minded.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry about such a long delay with this chapter, I got sick (ironically, considering the chapter itself...) and that drained my motivation to write. Also my computer crashed amidst the first round of editing so I lost some of my progress. Honestly I feel like this chapter is choppy and I'm not super happy with it, but I just need to move on and post it so I don't fester any longer.
> 
> As usual, thanks for being patient!
> 
> JJ harrassing Seung-gil, what a beautiful friendship: https://twitter.com/MariaMediarito/status/852075674214912000
> 
> Seung-gil and Phichit's unintentional snuggling: https://68.media.tumblr.com/efb31bd7b5537b963a4d46c32f81ddc3/tumblr_okjeljIxVz1voiqeko6_r1_1280.png


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since the past few chapters, I've had a decent idea about how this fic is going to resolve itself. I'm not super near the end, not to worry - but I at least have a direction, which is also a reassurance that I'm not going to stop working on this fic any time soon.

"You feeling any better?" 

Seung-gil practically jumps out of his skin at Phichit's voice, and he turns to see the other lounging casually on the other side of his bed, phone in hand as he taps away at his screen as per usual. A quick glance out the window shows Seung-gil that it's still light out, so he must not have been sleeping for very long. Even so, he hadn't expected Phichit to stick around at all. "Y-yeah. I'm - yeah, better." Not counting the increased heart palpitations he had just experienced at Phichit's close proximity. "Where's Makkachin? Wasn't he sleeping on the bed?" 

"I took him back to Yuuri's place," Phichit says. "He started getting whiny because he missed his dads. It was kinda cute, but I didn't want him to wake you." 

Seung-gil stifles a yawn at the mention of sleep. "How long was I out for?" 

"Like, almost a whole day? It's morning now." 

Seung-gil gapes. "That can't be." 

Phichit shakes his head. "You were asleep for so long, I was starting to afraid you didn't have a pulse anymore. But you were breathing and your body was still warm, so I figured that was a good sign. Speaking of which, I may have hogged the blankets a bit last night. But since you were feverish anyway I figured stealing a little extra warmth wasn't a big deal. ...I hope." 

His mind is struggling to keep up. "You walked Makkachin back to Yuuri's, then you came back, I was still asleep, and you stayed with me all night, in my bed, and now it's tomorrow morning." 

"Yep." 

"But -" Seung-gil can feel his cheeks warm, and _damn it_ , he wishes he could will away that particular reflex - but all the mental strength in the world can't keep him from getting flustered. "But, we're on vacation, that's such a waste of your time. And I would have gotten better just sleeping it out on my own. You didn't need to be here." 

"I wanted to be here." 

"There's no logical reason for it." 

"I don't care about it being logical. I just wanted to make sure you were okay." 

"That's stupid." 

The two glare at each other stubbornly, both exasperated and neither relenting. "You must be hungry, since you slept all of yesterday," Phichit says, breaking the silence and attempting to change the subject. "Let's go out for ramen, finally." 

"I don't need you taking care of me," Seung-gil mutters, still perturbed by the extent to which Phichit fusses over him. 

"I know you don't need it. I just want to because I care," Phichit snaps, and it's the first time Seung-gil has ever seen him even remotely annoyed. "It's Tuesday. You'll be rid of me by Sunday when we all go home. Just let me care about you until then and I'll leave you alone if it's that annoying." 

"It's not annoying," Seung-gil says hastily, feeling his heart sink at the thought of being _rid of_ Phichit in any capacity. He has to say something to refute that, anything, but he's not good at being tender or reassuring and apologies aren't any easier. "And you're not allowed to be rid of me. You - you already said you'd visit me in Korea. I'm not letting you go back on that." 

Silence stretches out for what feels like hours; Seung-gil wonders if he's made a dreadful mistake and hurt his feelings further. Then Phichit chuckles, and relief washes over him. "Fair enough. Sorry for getting worked up. It just kinda sucks that you're pushing me away so much when I care, and it makes me sad that you don't have more faith in yourself and how much fun you are." 

How the hell is he supposed to respond to a proclamation like that? "There's no pushing," Seung-gil says awkwardly. _And I'm not fun._ "Let's go get ramen." 

Phichit squints at him. "If you say so." 

Seung-gil gets dressed without ceremony, and within fifteen minutes they're both bundled up and outside, on the way to the restaurant together. Phichit's face is flushed from the cold and he's chattering about some photo with lots of likes on it, but Seung-gil isn't paying a lick of attention, instead daydreaming about snatching up Phichit's gloved hand in his own and pulling him forward to kiss his cheek. He's beyond irritated with his own fantasies but has also begrudgingly realized they're not going to stop any time soon. Repression doesn't seem to work too well, so he might as well let himself think the tiresome thoughts until he burns himself out. (Or perhaps until he acts on the thoughts, but that's highly unlikely considering the probability for failure.) 

"Seung-gil?" 

"Huh?" 

"Have you listened to a word I've been saying?" 

"No," Seung-gil admits, knowing Phichit would see right through a lie anyway.  

Phichit rolls his eyes. "I could tell. You looked distracted. What were you thinking about, hmm?" 

"Math," Seung-gil says, and it's only a partial lie. 

Phichit eyes him suspiciously but makes no comment. They enter the restaurant, place their orders into the machine, and sit together at a table waiting for their ramen. The server brings them both small cups of warm green tea while they wait, a welcome remedy to the cold outdoors that they both accept gratefully. 

"Have you interviewed with the reporters yet?" Phichit asks after taking a sip. 

"No," Seung-gil says. 

"You're running out of time," Phichit says, which makes Seung-gil's stomach do an unpleasant swoop, because that's not the only thing he's running out of time for and he knows it. "That was part of the point of being invited here, after all. Do you wanna go to the rink after we eat? Might as well get it out of the way." 

Seung-gil shrugs. "I guess." 

"We could do some skating while we're there. You could teach me some of your technical stuff so I can get better at quads." 

He considers for a moment. "No," he decides flatly. 

Phichit pouts. "Eh? Why not?" 

"Because you're my competition, and I don't want to give you advice," Seung-gil says coolly.  

"That's super mean," Phichit says. "We're friends. Yurio helped Yuuri even though they were rivals, and he's even ruder than you are." 

"And Yuuri almost beat him at the Grand Prix," Seung-gil shoots back. "I'm not going to make that same mistake. And that aside, I'd be a terrible teacher." 

"With that attitude, yeah, you probably would be." 

The two fall silent once they begin eating their ramen, and Seung-gil wonders if he's being too harsh. But he's not going to budge on this particular matter, at least not until he improves his own skills. Most of the other skaters are more talented than he is anyway, so there's no sense in widening the gap even further. 

"Besides, you don't need my help," Seung-gil adds as a halfhearted attempt at reassurance. "You're good enough at what you do." 

Phichit's lip curls mischievously. "Was that a compliment?" 

"No." 

"Yes it was." 

"Not even a little?" 

"...A little." 

Phichit laughs, and though Seung-gil tries to hide it by focusing his gaze intently on his bowl of ramen, he can't stop himself from smiling, too. 

* * *

Since neither skater had the foresight to bring their own skates, the two rent out pairs at Ice Castle once they arrive. The rental skates don't fit perfectly without the  _exact_ worn ridges weathered by his own feet over time, and Seung-gil can't help but feel slightly off as he enters the rink, so used to the particular feel of his own skates. It takes a lot of internal scolding to prevent himself from complaining outwardly about such minutia, but somehow he manages, if only so as not to ruin the excited grin on Phichit's cold-flushed face as he steps onto the ice.

The moment Seung-gil begins to skate, he's lost in his own thoughts. He forgets Phichit is there, forgets that he's even in Japan for that matter, just thinks about the feeling of being on the ice, how precise his turns are. He practices his jumps, mentally scolds himself when he stumbles, or when he over rotates, or when he notices any other blemish in his footwork that could result in point deductions if he were skating an actual program. On the other half of the ice Phichit is practicing, humming to himself as he does so, but Seung-gil is completely unaware of it, and if not for the occasional flashes of the other skater in his periphery, he would almost be able to trick himself into believing that he's alone. 

"So cool!" 

"He's amazing!" 

"Sex appeal overflowing!" 

Seung-gil almost loses balance upon hearing the shrill voices. He turns toward the entrance to the ice to see three stout little girls staring up at him with wonder - and phone cameras all pointed at him. Immediately he scowls and turns away from them; there's only one person he'll let take photos of him for no reason (which in itself is a rather recent development), and it's certainly not these kids. 

"He's even less smiley in person!" 

"Is it true you don't like your own fans?" 

"Will you sign my phone case?" 

Desperately Seung-gil looks around for Phichit, who's skating towards them with a grin on his face and barely contained laughter shaking his shoulders. "Seung-gil, these are Yuuko-san's daughters, the Nishigori triplets. Axel, Lutz, and Loop." 

"They're actually named that?" 

"Of course, don't be rude," Phichit says, and Seung-gil huffs - when has he ever _not_ been rude? The other is expecting far too much from him. "They're huge fans of yours." 

"We're fans of yours too!" one of them pipes up, tugging on Phichit's sleeve. 

"Are you guys practicing a duet together?" 

"Like Victor and Yuuri?" 

"We wanna be the first to see!" 

"N-no," Seung-gil stammers, wondering faintly how else the triplets see them like Victor and Yuuri. "I - we're just practicing because no one else is here." 

Their faces fall in unison, a sight which Seung-gil actually finds rather cute. (Not that he'd admit that, of course. He doesn't need a bunch of overly excited skating gremlins crawling all over him.)

"Maybe we'll do one someday, right, Seung-gil? You never know." Phichit nudges his shoulder. 

"I'd like to win gold first," Seung-gil says sourly. One of the triplets is still holding out a marker to him, shaking her outstretched pudgy hand to get his attention, so he sighs and relents, scribbling his name on her phone case (why does such a young child own a phone in the first place...?) in both English and Korean. The little girl practically swoons. 

"Guess you're not mean to all your fans, hmm?" Phichit teases. 

"I'm about to be mean to my friend if he doesn't stop making fun of me," Seung-gil replies, his cheeks growing warm. 

A grin splits the other's features. "You're not scary, you know. You're like a big growly dog. But I know you'll still be nice if I pet you." He places one hand on Seung-gil's head. 

If his reflexes functioned properly where Phichit is concerned, Seung-gil would have shoved his hand away with a huff. Instead he mirrors the action without even thinking, reaching over to ruffle Phichit's hair. "Woof." 

The two freeze, staring at one another, and Seung-gil's thoughts are plagued by the demoralizing mantra of _what the fuck, why did I do that, why did I say that._ Then Phichit's face flushes dark red, and Seung-gil feels very lightheaded all of a sudden, and it's immediately imperative that he get off the ice right this instant. So he does just that, pushing past the three girls making tittering noises of awe and stomping away in a manner that nearly causes him to trip on his own blades. "I have to do that interview before I forget," he practically yells, wishing to be out of there as soon as possible before he makes a fool out of himself and acts on his horrible, intrusive,  _romantic_ thoughts in front of three overly-invested little girls with cameras poised at the ready. 

Before he steps out of the rink, he hears laughter and Phichit's voice calling after him. "Who's a good boy?" 

"Shut up!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another gorgeous piece of art from this chapter by MariaMediaHere, I am so blessed: http://mariamediahere.deviantart.com/art/Seungchuchu-Almavivo-Ch13-snippet-675362965
> 
> Every once in a while as I'm lurking in the seungchuchu twitter tag, I see someone post something positive about this fic. It's a surreal experience and I just wanted you to know that if you've ever said something nice on twitter, chances are I've seen it and feel emotional about it. Positivity goes a long way! Part of me wants to make a twitter specifically just to interact with people in this fandom, but I also fear I may be too shy... Either way, thank you.
> 
> I'm going to try to reply to some of my old comments this round too, sorry about that being a bit late.


	14. Chapter 14

The interview is swift and uneventful, not that Seung-gil expects anything else. Members of the press ask him a handful of typical questions, about his plans for future programs (he still doesn't know) and how he'd felt about the results of the last tournament (a resounding _unsatisfied_ , to be sure). 

A soft exhalation escapes his lips when the door of Ice Castle swings shut behind him and he steps out into the sun, shivering at the unexpected chill of the wind. Now that the formality of the interview is over, his mind traitorously creeps back to the incident with Phichit on the rink - though it was hardly an  _incident_ , just himself being irrational. But - it wasn't  _logical,_ the way he'd reacted - not  _dignified,_ not  _rational,_ not  _acceptable,_ not - 

"H-hello." 

Seung-gil flinches. "Guang Hong," he says stiffly, turning to face the younger boy who had managed to sneak up on him while his thoughts were looping indefinitely like a lagging computer program. "I mean - hello." 

"Hi..." Guang Hong shuffles his feet in the sand in front of them, clearly unsure how to proceed with Seung-gil's closed-off attitude. Seung-gil doesn't blame him, really. He's a hard person to approach, and it's something he's neither proud nor ashamed of - it's merely the way he is. "Uh, you just got out of your interview, I think, right?" 

Seung-gil nods.  

"Did they ask anything... I dunno, scary?" Guang Hong inquires. 

"No," Seung-gil says. What even constitutes a scary question in the first place? "Mostly standard queries." 

"Oh, that's a relief." Guang Hong shudders. "But it's so embarrassing to be interviewed after placing so badly in the last tournament..." 

"Yeah," Seung-gil says in agreement, not in the mood to elaborate. 

"But it's good press," the other continues nervously. "Right? It's good to be in the public eye and have a fanbase. Then you'll have more people supporting you." 

"I guess, if you worry about that kind of thing" Seung-gil says, though he's only agreeing because Guang Hong is a friend of Phichit's and he doesn't want to upset him. In reality he couldn't care less about his fans - with _perhaps_ the exception of a certain admittedly-cute trio of little girls. (Somehow it just feels wrong to disappoint them.)  

Guang Hong looks up at him with wide eyes. "How can you be so calm about everything? Doesn't anything bother you?" 

His first thought is _you're bothering me a bit right now_ , which he mercifully bites back. "Yes, things bother me," he says instead, hoping to dismiss that line of thought.  

"Oh," Guang Hong says, looking skeptical. "Well - oh. Okay. Then - that's cool then. That you seem... unbothered." 

"Mm." 

It's clear at this point that neither of them have anything to say to one another, and the conversation grinds to an uncomfortable halt. The two skaters avoid eye contact, both desperately trying to figure out how to end this interaction. Eventually Seung-gil breaks the silence with his typical lack of grace. "So I'll be heading back, now." 

"Oh, uh, yeah," Guang Hong stutters. "Sorry for keeping you." 

Seung-gil shrugs. "Bye." He's stuck with the urge to apologize back, though what for he's not quite sure. Instead he turns back to the younger boy. "Good luck interviewing. It's not a big deal. ...Don't sweat it." Is that comforting? He's not sure, but what he _is_ sure about is that there's no way he can do better. 

Guang Hong looks surprised. "Ah - thanks. I'm - I'm not that nervous, anyway." 

A blatant lie if he'd ever heard one. "It'll be fine," Seung-gil says with a wave of his hand. "See you around." 

"...See you." 

Is this a step forward in a friendly direction? Seung-gil can't tell. All he knows is that the atmosphere feels marginally less tense, and he feels irrationally proud of himself considering how short the interaction had been. He knows if Phichit were there, he would have at least noticed Seung-gil's tiny effort. 

That's a nice thought. 

* * *

After one somewhat successful conversation, Seung-gil feels burned out for the rest of the day - and if he's being dramatic, perhaps the rest of his life. Solitude is all he desires, time alone to mull over his thoughts and how he should choose to act on them. Unfortunately, being alone is not yet meant to be, and Seung-gil stumbles across yet another of his fellows on his walk back. He would be more irritated by the chance encounter if it weren't for the fluffy creature accompanying the man in front of him on the walkway.

"Hello, Seung-gil," Yuuri says. 

Makkachin barks. 

"Good afternoon," Seung-gil replies, and before the sentence completes he's already kneeling on the ground with his hand stroking Makkachin's fur. Wagging his tail excitedly, the poodle wiggles into his touch and licks Seung-gil on the cheek. He's struck with the sudden intense desire to hug Makkachin close to his body and cry all his jumbled emotions into his fur, but the reality that Yuuri is also there is thankfully holding him back. "Good afternoon to you, too," he adds in a slightly softer tone, and Makkachin administers another lick to his face. If only his own dog were here right now, he thinks. Then he might have a chance at emotionally stabilizing himself enough to deal with this dreadful situation. Even being around Makkachin is managing to calm his thoughts at least somewhat, though. 

"Oh, I'm actually glad I ran into you right now," Yuuri says, smiling down at the two of them. "I know it's really short notice, but Victor and I are going to host a party for everyone Thursday night. Or I guess, a dinner. I was going to get Phichit to contact you if I couldn't get ahold of you. I was hoping you'd maybe consider coming? There'll be free food and drinks." 

_I don't drink,_ Seung-gil almost says, but considering the recent events that have unfolded and confused him, he may want to drown his emotions in alcohol after all. "Noted," he says instead. 

Yuuri seems to be struggling with whether or not to try to continue the conversation or leave him be. After a moment of pause he asks, "Are you okay?" 

"Why?" 

"You seem tense." 

Seung-gil considers lying, but Yuuri had been the person he had planned to confide to in the first place, so he opts for honesty. "I keep making a fool of myself," he mutters. "With - _your friend._ " It's too embarrassing to even utter the name, though it's painfully clear to whom he's referring. 

Yuuri's expression softens. "He's _your_ friend too, you know." 

Seung-gil says nothing. 

"And he doesn't think that you seem like a fool," Yuuri continues. "He won't stop texting me about how great he thinks you are. How he looks up to you." 

"He's better than me," Seung-gil blurts, and looks away, because _fuck feeling insecure,_ it's a shameful emotion and he shouldn't think it, much less tell Yuuri. 

Yuuri shakes his head. "I used to put Victor on such a high pedestal, too. But everyone has their weaknesses, Seung-gil. I'm still trying to accept myself for mine, so maybe telling you that makes me a hypocrite. But Victor sees past that stuff about me, so I try to find peace with myself, too." 

"But you like Phichit more than me." 

Yuuri laughs, and Seung-gil can't decide between offense and mortification. "We've been friends for ages, and I barely know you. But I'd like to be your friend, too. And besides," he adds teasingly, "don't you like Phichit more than me, too?" 

"Yes," Seung-gil admits, which elicits another chuckle from Yuuri. "He's very likable." 

"That he is." 

They're both silent for a moment, and Seung-gil focuses on the dog he's petting rather than emotions he doesn't want to face. "Am I likable?" he asks softly. 

"Of course," Yuuri says. "Everyone's likable to some people." 

Seung-gil scowls. 

Yuuri grins sheepishly. "Okay, that sounded kinda bad. I just meant there's not only one likable kind of person. Just because you don't come across as warm doesn't make you a bad person or a bad friend. Anyone who gets to know you I think would know that." 

"Hrm," Seung-gil mumbles. 

"I don't know you that well, you know," Yuuri reminds him gently. "I like you, though, from what I can tell. And we have a lot in common." 

"Dogs?" 

Yuuri laughs. "I was going to say  _romantic insecurity,_ but yes, dogs. And skating, too." 

"Of course," Seung-gil agrees, and he almost smiles. 

Another bark.

(Okay, he  _does_ smile.) 

"I should probably get him home," Yuuri says apologetically. "I really hope I'll see you on Thursday." 

"I'll come," Seung-gil says, making up his mind in that moment. "Thank you for listening to me. Please do not pass this on to Phichit." 

He shakes his head. "Of course not. But I still think you should talk to him if you get the chance." 

Seung-gil shrugs airily. "For now I need some time by myself. To... think." 

"That's fair," Yuuri says. "Good luck." 

A nod. "Thank you." 

Before he fully turns to make his way in the opposite direction, he hears Yuuri's voice clear from behind him: "Makkachin's rooting for you, too." 

Surprising even himself, he laughs. "Then I suppose I have nothing to worry about."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had a bit of a tough time finishing up this chapter because it's a bit of a filler and I have many parts of future (more interesting) chapters already blocked out and written. But that ridiculous new canon information about Seung-gil inspired me to bite the bullet, especially since it... fits well with... things I've written already. That's all I'll say about that.
> 
> Ironically I'm posting this near Phichit's birthday and Phichit isn't in it at all, oh well.


	15. Chapter 15

The sweater he chooses to wear is red.

Actually, it's more of a dark maroon or crimson, but Seung-gil has never been very good at judging specific colors. If some people are tone deaf, Seung-gil is fashion-deaf - not that he cares. He knows he could probably improve if he put his mind to it, but his mind is destined for greater things than determining whether or not his shirt and socks match, or whatever other nonsense it is that fashionistas care about.

Still, for once he is taking the time to look in the mirror longer than five seconds. He consciously has chosen an outfit that isn't covered in "tacky dog print" or has colors that "burn people's eye sockets," both of which he has been accused of in the past. His hair is acceptably tamed. His collar is smoothed. His expression - well, sour as ever, but that's a bit harder to alter.

Yuuri's party is in less than an hour, and Seung-gil plans to leave soon and arrive early. Time to spare is always a good thing; he's never understood the concept of being fashionably late (perhaps it's the  _fashionably_ part that, once again, throws him off) and he can use that extra time to help Yuuri and his family set up if they're dealing with any last minute preparations.

More importantly, Phichit will be there. If Seung-gil is early, he may have a chance to pull him aside before the party and tell him - what, exactly? It can't be something too forward that'll make the atmosphere between them awkward and ruin the rest of the evening. Maybe just a casual  _hello,_ _you look nice?_ Not that he knows what Phichit will be wearing to the party, but he'll look nice regardless. Phichit looks nice no matter what he's wearing, whether it's something ugly, classy, or nothing at all.

_Nothing at - ?_

Even alone, his face reddens. Briefly he wonders if throwing himself off the hotel's highest balcony instead of attending Yuuri's party would be considered a classless act.

There's a knock at his door. Seung-gil moves toward the door without a thought, too deeply immersed in his mental downward spiral to check if the person at his door is JJ, and thus not let him in.

(It's JJ.)

"Seung-gil, my man." JJ makes a motion with his hand as if he's going to take hold of Seung-gil's shoulder, but stops halfway and lets his arm drop to his side. "Sorry, sorry. Almost forgot you don't like that. How's it going, coping with your intense passions? ...Actually, you kinda look like someone just died. Sure you don't want my advice? I can talk to Phichit for you, if you want. I can actually be a good wingman if you give me the chance -"

"Don't talk to him," Seung-gil interrupts sternly. "And don't talk about this in the hallway." His eyes focus on JJ for the first time since opening the door, taking note of the red and white maple leaf-patterned tie amidst JJ's otherwise all black outfit. With a grimace, he turns away, stepping back into his room to inspect himself nervously in the wall mirror once more before sitting down on his bed. It's still too early to head over, but he doesn't know what he's going to do for the next half hour other than sit here and stew in agony over his unresolved feelings.

"Are you inviting me in?" JJ asks, surprised.

Seung-gil considers. "I'm not forcing you to leave," he decides. "I don't have anything better to do or think about. Distract me with your bullshit."

JJ laughs. "You can just say you want to talk. It's okay, you know - admitting we're friends won't kill you."

"It might," Seung-gil says airily.

"Are you really that worried about Phichit? I think you're definitely overreacting. When I asked out Isabella -"

Seung-gil groans.

JJ huffs. "C'mon, let me finish. She was so pretty and cool and awesome, and we got along really well. But every time I thought about asking her out, I couldn't stop thinking about all the annoying things I'd done, and whether she actually thought I was a huge idiot. Can you imagine? Someone thinking I, King JJ, am an idiot! Unthinkable."

"I can imagine one person."

JJ punches his shoulder lightly. "You're such an asshole. Anyway, the point is, when it comes to the person you like, you always overthink yourself and your own flaws, but more likely than not other people would accept you for those things. I don't think Phichit seems to mind that you're rude and grumpy and can't dress yourself."

"I can dress myself just fine," Seung-gil protests.

"Really?" JJ squints at Seung-gil's open suitcase. "I spy an ugly sweater with a dog in ice skates on the front."

"I'm not wearing that right now. Also, you have a tramp stamp of your own initials."

He laughs. "It's my trademark."

Seung-gil rolls his eyes. "Well, I'm glad your girlfriend likes you. Makes me feel _so_ much better."

"If you were nicer, she'd like you too."

"Since when do I need her approval?"

JJ grins. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Hey, you wanna walk over with me? Maybe it'd boost your street cred to be seen with the coolest skater ever."

 _Walk over?_ It takes a moment for Seung-gil to register that JJ is talking about the looming party. "What will it do for my street cred to be seen with you, then, I wonder?"

"Harsh!" JJ whistles. "But that's about what I expect from you. I accept it, though, 'cause we're friends."

"...Uh-huh."

"So?"

Seung-gil stands up, brushing invisible dust off his pants. "We're both heading that direction, so I suppose it's all right."

"Oh, excellent! I'm gonna keep distracting you with my 'bullshit,' then, since you so kindly gave me permission."

"...Whatever."

The moment they exit the hotel and embark on their walk, Seung-gil is already expertly tuning out every word JJ says. Occasionally a word or so about JJ's girlfriend or his band or something about Canada permeates Seung-gil's consciousness, but he brushes it aside - or rather, the thought of Phichit and facing him and having to make  _forward progress_ drowns out all other thoughts.

Of course it's Phichit's face that greets them when the front door opens.

"Oh, hey! You guys are early," Phichit chirps. "Yuuri assigned me to doorman duty. Oh, JJ - shoes."

JJ had almost placed one foot past the threshold without having taken them off. "Sorry," he says apologetically, retreating his leg before slipping out of his shoes. "I still forget about that, sometimes. Got overexcited."

"It's okay," Phichit reassures him, before turning to Seung-gil. "Hey, you look really good."

 _Well, there goes the only conversation starter I'd planned._ "Oh," he mumbles.

Phichit raises an eyebrow. "Are you okay? You seem kinda... grouchier than usual."

"I don't like parties," Seung-gil says, strained.

"Easy solution: drink lots of alcohol and you won't remember any of it in the morning," JJ interjects unhelpfully. 

"And sit by me," Phichit adds, playfully tapping his shoulder. "I'll distract you if Victor and Yuuri start making out again."

"Uh - yeah. Okay."

There's another soft knock, and Phichit scurries to the door to let Leo and Guang Hong in. After that, the rest of the skaters continue to filter in: Sara with Mila happily chatting away at her left side and Michele glaring at the other guests like a hawk on her right; a sulky Yuri accompanied by a typically stoic Otabek; Chris arriving by himself and immediately at ease amidst the throng of people. Seung-gil watches them all from afar, but besides a few cordial words exchanged with a busy Yuuri, he can't bring himself to interject anything.

"Don't wanna talk to people, huh?" JJ asks as if reading his mind.

"No."

JJ shrugs. "I love attention," he says. "So I don't know what that's like."

Seung-gil almost snaps a retort before realizing JJ is serious. "Not great," he admits.

The other hums thoughtfully. "But you don't get lonely as easily, right? Being an introvert and all. Or whatever. That's gotta be nice, I suppose."

Through furrowed brows Seung-gil watches Phichit chatting up a storm with Chris across the room. "Mm."

Thankfully JJ doesn't press the subject, sensing the direction of his gaze, and Seung-gil stubbornly falls silent as everyone situates themselves around the table. True to his word, Phichit sits down next to him, but he seems distracted and Seung-gil can tell they won't be having any meaningful conversation with everyone around. JJ takes the seat on his other side, a development he's too apathetic to protest.

Yuuri stands to speak before the dinner commences, and everyone turns to look at him. "U-um, thank you all for coming," he begins uncertainly, shrinking a bit under the intense gazes. "I appreciate each and every one of you. You've all inspired me not to give up my career."

"Especially me," Victor murmurs with a cheeky grin, and Yuri elbows him.

"I'm not really good at giving speeches," Yuuri continues with what seems to be a barely contained roll of his eyes. "So I guess all I want to say is, thank you all for being such great competitors. And friends." His eyes land on Seung-gil, who looks away without thinking. "Anyway - that's all, really. Now we can get to the best part: my mom's cooking." Yuuri grins lopsidedly at his mother, who beams back with added intensity. _"_ K _anpai!_ " The shout is echoed with varying enthusiasm - Phichit's and Victor's voices by far the loudest - and the clinking of glasses.

In what seems like almost no time at all Victor is already growing drunk, faster than Seung-gil had ever thought a person capable, and is clinging to Yuuri like a koala on a branch. Yuuri's face too is slightly ruddy after only one glass and he's gazing at Victor with the kind of unbridled adoration he absolutely would have been embarrassed to display when sober. Watching them makes Seung-gil a bit disgusted - a familiar feeling when it comes to public displays of affection - but also a tad jealous, which is different. And sad, too, somehow. 

Seung-gil is far from a cultured connoisseur of alcohol. He assumes the brands of beer and wine laid out on the table are specific to Japan, because he has neither heard nor recognizes any of them. But he doesn't need to have refined taste to know that no matter what he's downing, a few glasses is all it will take to get him drunk - or at least, drunk enough to place a convenient haze over his memories and hopefully make such a raucous social event tolerable.

The next time Seung-gil allows himself to focus on the festivities unfolding before him, Victor and Yuuri are making out again. Guang Hong is curled up in Leo's lap, dizzy from the alcohol he's too young to be drinking, and Leo is running his fingers through his hair; the two are chatting with Phichit, who barely seems drunk at all. Georgi and Michele are arguing about women, and Mila and Sara are pointedly ignoring them, arm wrestling while an utterly wasted Minako cheers them on. Otabek and Yuri are interacting exclusively with one another, though JJ is making silly faces at Yuri in an attempt to break his concentration. Seung-gil is acutely aware of a gnawing loneliness, one that he'd hoped the alcohol would have pushed away (to no avail).

"Phichit," he says softly, nudging his neighbor's shoulder. "Hey, Phichit."

The shorter boy had been in the midst of taking a picture of the numerous absurd scenes surrounding them, but he lowers his phone, turning to face Seung-gil. "Everyone's getting really crazy, aren't they? I know you don't really like this stuff, but you've gotta admit it's at least a _little_ fun."

Seung-gil kisses him.

The alcohol has dulled any shame he otherwise would have experienced. It's dulled his reasoning skills as well. Normally, Seung-gil analyzes situations excessively before choosing to engage in anything he might regret later. But right now, his reasoning boils down to not much more than  _I want someone too_ and  _Phichit isn't as annoying as the rest of them._ Phichit is nice and actively seeks to hang out with him - doesn't that mean he likes Seung-gil, too? In his current muddled state far from sobriety, that seems like a good enough deduction. Besides, he's warm and the room is warm and Phichit's lips are warm; it just feels natural to combine it all together in one big melding of warmth.

There's a _click_ from behind him, and the other boy pulls away, eyes wide. "Oh, Seung-gil... you're really drunk." His lips are pulled tight in a smile, but it's apparent he's extremely startled and trying to hide it to be respectful.

"Yeah?" For the life of him, Seung-gil can't process why that matters at the moment.

Phichit sighs nervously. "I think JJ may have just... never mind. Um, either way, I don't want you to do something you really regret later because you've been drinking. Be careful, okay?"

"I don't regret it," Seung-gil says earnestly. "I want to do it again."

"Would you say that if you were sober?"

It's almost motherly, the tone Phichit is using, and Seung-gil doesn't much like it. "Sober?" He blinks. "I'm - who knows, who cares."

"I care," Phichit says sternly. "If you wanna talk about this, it has to be later when you're not drunk."

"Or we could both be drunk," Seung-gil replies, because at the moment this seems like a perfectly reasonable solution to this problem. "Hmm. Yeah, why aren't you drinking, Phichit?"

"Have you looked around? Someone's gotta be responsible and take care of everyone," he says gently. "You know how wild Yuuri can get when he's trashed. I never thought I'd be looking out for you too, though..."

Seung-gil shakes his head. "I'm not being wild. I'm being  _logical._ I like you so I should kiss you. Isn't that how that works? It's... correlation. Causation. I'll draw you up a graph later. Remind me to do that. I'll use real statistics and everything. And a ruler."

"I've heard of affectionate drunks, but never a math drunk," Phichit says with a laugh. "Seriously, let's just talk later. In private. You don't like public affection, remember? Geez, you must really be out of it."

"Or we could just kiss more. Look, _they're_ doing it." Sulkily he gestures towards Victor and Yuuri. "And they're married. Or something."

There's an odd expression on Phichit's face. "I'm not going to take advantage of you when you're drunk, Seung-gil. That's final. Let's talk later. Please?"

Finally the message of what he believes to be rejection gets through to Seung-gil's dulled mind, and the drunken high of kissing his crush starts to wear off. "Forget it," he mutters, illogically frustrated by the feeling that his calculations had been devastatingly wrong. "At least my dog loves me."

" _Seung-gil._ "

"Don't talk to me again," he adds flatly.

"Hey, now -"

But he turns his body away from Phichit, wishing to look everywhere but at that unattainable, beautiful face. Had Seung-gil permanently ruined their friendship? Right now, that seemed likely. And what did Phichit want to talk about later?  He didn't want to know. He  _never_ wanted to know.

He's not _nearly_ drunk enough to be dealing with this. _Fuck_.

"How'd that feel, making out with Phichit?"

JJ's voice murmuring far too close to his ear makes Seung-gil leap what feels like ten feet in the air. "Shut up."

"You know," JJ continues, clearly more than a bit tipsy himself, "if things don't work out between me and 'Bella, I'd totally consider dating you as like, a rebound."

Somehow that's not very comforting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a lot of this chapter written months ago, before drunk kissing Seung-gil was a canon thing, so I hope this isn't too stale by now. I'm glad it's canon at least? Haha.
> 
> I wasn't able to write anything new for seungchuchu week because I was too busy unfortunately, so I hope this suffices for now. (I may still tackle some of the prompts in the future, but I'm not sure.)


	16. Chapter 16

Seung-gil is convinced that whichever ancient Egyptians and Chinese circa 7000 BC who were the first to ferment drinks and make alcohol had to have been the stupidest people in all of human history. Getting drunk is always the worst possible idea - who loses their filter and grasp on reality willingly? - and yet he’s fallen into the trap multiple times nonetheless out of the desire to make social events more passable. Why couldn’t he have learned from his past mistakes with his former Korean skating colleagues that downing alcohol in large quantities in front of relative strangers is never a good idea? Now he's not only reaffirmed that fact, but also learned that downing alcohol in large quantities in front of people who aren't strangers is even worse.

He feels like shit. It’s not just because he’s hungover - though that hardly helps - but he’d also managed to make a complete fool of himself in front of Phichit (and everyone else, but he cared about their opinions significantly less). Seung-gil had been so desperate to advance the situation torturing him emotionally that he’d used alcohol as an excuse to pounce on his only-recently-established best friend and then sulk like a baby when it hadn’t worked out the way he’d liked. Really, it had been a pathetic display. And Phichit had been so calm and mature about it, which somehow made it even more humiliating. He’d probably known the whole time that Seung-gil had feelings for him but refused to bring it up out of politeness. Maybe all the times they’d hung out as friends had just been out of pity.

Seung-gil flinches when his phone rings, not for the first time that morning. There had been one call an hour ago that he’d ignored, but despite the perks of denial, he knows can only be a petulant child for so long, even if he’s not sure he can deal with the result. This time he takes his phone in his hand, glaring at it bitterly for a few moments before taking the call.

“You picked up,” Phichit says, sounding relieved. “Hey, um, are you okay?”

_What kind of a question is that?_ “I’m fine,” Seung-gil says in a small voice.

“Oh, good. Because I was afraid I sort of, um… hurt your feelings yesterday. I'd rather just talk to you in person. Is that okay?”

“Yeah. Okay.” He wants to throw his phone out the window.  “Do you want to come here? Should I just go over there?” As if his legs are going to take him that far without him chickening out and jumping in the ocean first.

“How about we just meet in front of Ice Castle?” Phichit suggests. “I don’t think I could take Victor butting in on this, bless his soul.”

_This._ What was  _this?_ He doesn't want to know. “Right. Or JJ.”

“Or JJ,” Phichit agrees. “Anyway, see you. Bye.”

Seung-gil wonders if Phichit gets off the phone too hastily or if it’s just his imagination, though he's honestly still amazed they’d managed an interaction of that caliber at all.

It takes a few agonizing minutes for Seung-gil to convince himself to get out of bed at all. Once up, he's the exact opposite of grace, barely able to dress himself and brush his hair without his shaking hands fumbling. No matter how much water he splashes on his cheeks, the pale face that looks back at him from the mirror looks practically undead. It doesn't help that he had unconsciously put on all black clothes in a futile attempt to dress himself acceptably. He wonders if he'd looked this shitty when he was drunk. And Phichit had been so cute, too.

Suddenly nauseous, Seung-gil stretches out a hand on the bathroom counter to steady himself. For a good minute he furiously does mental math until his breathing has calmed and his limbs have steadied, the same tactic he implements while skating to distract himself from nerves. 

Logically, he knows he most likely has nothing to fear from Phichit. His friend has only ever been supportive and understanding thus far, so there's no data suggesting that any of his mistakes from the night prior will change that. But it's also that understanding and gentle, warm nature of his that makes Seung-gil's heart ache.

Whatever happens is out of his control. He'll just have to accept that.

With that in mind, he steels himself to leave his room, luckily not running to JJ as he flees the hotel. (Seung-gil hopes JJ's even more hungover than he is, the Canadian bastard.) It's a bit chilly outside, but less so than the days prior, and the sun is out. If Seung-gil believed in omens, he'd think that the good weather was a good sign. Instead it makes him scowl and wishes he'd brought a pair of sunglasses.

No pair of sunglasses would be enough to shield him from the sunny disposition that is Phichit, waving to him from the outside of the ice rink with a glowing expression completely opposed to the tension Seung-gil is feeling. He waves back, halfheartedly, though he can't muster a smile, or anything close to one for that matter.

"You didn't have to come if you weren't feeling well," Phichit says, which does nothing to assuage Seung-gil's guilt. "We can talk later, if you want."

"No, I -"  Seung-gil swallows. He can feel his legs shaking, the palms of his hands growing clammy, and he’s terrified about the impending conversation and the possibility that he could have fucked up a relationship with someone who has quickly grown very important to him. That guarded expression on Phichit’s face after Seung-gil’s drunken mishap haunts him, and he wonders how he’d let himself mess up that badly, to throw logic to the curb and become intoxicated to the point of self-destruction. Then there’s the added shame of not being able to state his feelings outright and admit to Phichit that he has a crush on him. 

At this point all Seung-gil can do is try to backtrack awkwardly, blame his actions on the alcohol, and pray they can move past this, and steel himself to keep his personal emotions locked up tightly in the future. Because when it comes down to it, he’d burn with unrequited feelings forever if it meant holding onto the friendship of the rare person that makes him happy.

_ How internally dramatic of _ _me._

He takes a deep breath. “I truly apologize about my behavior last night. I was inebriated, and extremely out of line. And cowardly, for that matter. I would like to put this behind us, if you would also be so inclined.” Seung-gil squints his eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable awkward laughter and denial of his request, the inevitable confession from Phichit that he wants his distance after something like this and the two of them drifting apart, Seung-gil losing the one person he’d grown truly fond of and wanted to be closer to. 

“I like being your friend,” he adds in a barely audible voice. “That’s more than enough.”

The silence makes the chill of the air seem colder.

Phichit sighs. “Geez, no need to sound like someone died. Relax a little, c’mon. You even _look_ like you’re dressed for a funeral.” Seung-gil bristles, but when Phichit laughs the sound melts away his offense. “You overthink everything. It’s kinda cute sometimes, but right now I just had to stop myself from rolling my eyes at you. Look, I didn’t do a good job of dealing with it last night, I was just taken aback, is all, not expecting for you to get all touchy-feely on me. I just wanted you to tell me when you weren’t drunk.”

“Tell you what?”

Phichit’s gaze is suddenly steely, searching. “Seung-gil, come on.”

“...Tell you what?”

“Let’s go out.”

“We’re already out.”

Now Phichit is in fact rolling his eyes. “Are you really not kidding? Out on a date.”

Seung-gil freezes at the word, unable to process it. “Because I made advances on you while drunk? Are you making fun of me?”

The other scowls. “No, not because of that! Because you told Victor you like me, and I was waiting for you to say something, because I didn’t want to pressure you, but I had to do it because there aren’t many days of this trip left and I wanted to go out with you before I have to go home!”

It’s all half-shouted in one continuous breath, and the two stare at each other in wonder for a while. Just staring, as what’s been said sinks in at an alarming rate.

“Victor told you?” Seung-gil’s shoulders droop in defeat. There’s no sense hiding any of it now, though that’s terrifying in and of itself.

Suddenly Phichit’s blushing furiously, the likes of which Seung-gil has never seen on the other’s face, not even close. “No. No he didn’t. I - don’t get mad, okay? I listened in on the conversation you had with him.”

Seung-gil gapes.

“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry! I know I was being nosy, but I couldn’t help it, I heard your voice and I just wanted to know what you were talking about. I was just curious, I really didn’t think it was going to be about me, but then I heard my name, and I just - I had to hear all of it, I’m really sorry. Eavesdropping on your feelings like that was kinda terrible of me.”

“I - uh.” What had he even said to Victor? All he can remember is Victor telling him he had no social skills and storming out in a huff because it was true. "No, that's -" Now he's finally starting to mull over the rest of what Phichit had said, a bit dazed as reality struggles and fails to catch up. “You, uh, you really wanna go out.” Seung-gil phrases it like a statement, too disbelieving to ask a proper question.

Phichit nods vigorously. “Yes! Since the beginning, actually.”

“What beginning?”

“The double date I tried to invite you on, with Yuuri and Victor.”

Seung-gil had only referred to that interaction as a double date cynically in his own mind. Who knew that had been the intention all along? “That was… a date? I thought you were just trying to include me in things.”

“Well -” Phichit huffs defensively. “I thought you’d noticed, anyway, ‘cause then after that you started putting the moves on me!”

“I  _ what? _ ” Seung-gil squawks. “What moves?!”

“The dancing?”

“That was moves?”

“It  _ wasn’t _ moves?!”

Seung-gil purses his lips and stares at the ground. “I… don’t know what that was.”

Phichit’s face splits into a grin. “You were seducing me without even meaning to? That’s adorable.”

Seung-gil grunts, embarrassed beyond belief.

“You’re making this way too complicated,” Phichit says, softer. “We both like each other, yeah? Let’s go out on a date.”

Seung-gil's mind is reeling now that he's realized that not only had he been worried for nothing, but he'd apparently missed a lot of very obvious social cues leading up to this. The thought its more frightening than it is a relief. “I - I don’t mean to fish for compliments, but - why? Why me?”

Phichit hums thoughtfully. “Well, I guess I think it’s cool that you’re so straightforward. Except about romantic feelings, apparently.”

“...Sorry. It's, uh, not personal.”

He waves dismissively. “I would have said something sooner, but I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. Uh - you’re not uncomfortable, right?”

“Frankly, I am,” Seung-gil admits, “but - not because of you. Just dealing with it, in general.”

“That’s okay,” Phichit says. “I’m nervous, too.”

“You don’t look nervous.”

“You don’t look uncomfortable,” Phichit shoots back.

Seung-gil frowns. “This is just my face.”

The other laughs. “Fair enough. Oh, also, since you asked why - I also just think you’re really cute. Like, you seem really prickly but when I actually talk to you, you’re super nice and thoughtful. Plus it’s really cute how excited you get about dogs. And it makes my life easy if I ever wanna get you a gift. Hey, Seung-gil, you look like a tomato.”

Indeed, a flush of heat has crept all the way from his neck to the tips of his ears. “You’re -” He swallows.

“Hmm?”

“ _ You’re _ cute.”

Phichit grins. “How hard was it for you to say that?”

“Very.”

Suddenly Phichit steps forward and closes the gap between them, and a pair of small but firm arms wraps around him. “Thanks for saying it anyway.”

For so long, Seung-gil had felt like no one truly understood him. HIs fans saw him as unshakably stoic and cold, his fellow skaters as a jerk; his coach was never fully satisfied with the way he presented himself. Why was Phichit any different? Why did he seem charmed by Seung-gil’s personality rather than repulsed by it? And why was he so unequivocally understanding of all Seung-gil’s quirks?

Maybe there isn't an answer to that question at all. Right now, even if there is an answer, he doesn’t care to hear it.

“I like you,” he whispers, hesitantly returning the hug with his own awkward embrace. 

“I know,” Phichit says teasingly, then: “I feel the same.”

"Sorry I didn't just tell you. Instead of, er..."

Phichit snickers. "Either way, I got the message. So it's fine."

“You’re way too nice to me.” Seung-gil tries to speak more firmly, but his voice cracks nonetheless.

Phichit shakes his head. “You deserve it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure,” Phichit says. “Geez, stop being so unsure of yourself. It’s not like you.” 

He ruffles Seung-gil’s hair with one hand - a gesture oddly less affronting when not coming from JJ - and Seung-gil pulls back to glare at him. “You have no idea what’s like me,” he mutters. “We haven’t known each other that long.”

“I hope that’ll change soon.”

Seung-gil coughs. “That’s cheesy as fuck.”

“Yep,” Phichit agrees. “But you’re still blushing.”

“Am not.”

“Seung-gil, I’m looking at you.”

“Get your eyes checked.”

Phichit grins, and Seung-gil feels as though he’d been shot. In a good way. Is that even possible? “I’ll stop teasing you if you’re actually upset by it.”

He considers the offer. “No, I - I’m okay with it, actually. I - hey, what are you doing?” For in the blink of an eye, Phichit has pulled out his phone and is pointing at him, which never bodes well coming from the master of social media.

“I was taking a picture of you,” Phichit says. “You’re smiling.”

“I am?”

“I wanted to capture the moment.” A pause. “Also, I was gonna send a snap to Yuri to tell him we’re together now.”

“Please don’t.”

Phichit looks hurt. “Fine, I’ll just save the picture. I mean, I thought it was a cute photo of you, but if you really don’t want me to -”

“What I meant was,” Seung-gil interrupts hastily, “is that if, um, if you wanted to tell him that badly, then we should, uh, as proof - take a picture together.”

He’s never seen a human expression change so fast. “You wanna take a couple selfie with me? Really?”

Phichit’s expression is the exact same as his dog’s when Seung-gil asks him if he wants to go outside, and he finds himself laughing too, feeling some of the tension he’d been withholding release and relax his shoulders. “Yes, really.”

“You know,” Phichit adds, “JJ already posted a picture of us from last night. I just thought I should let you know.”

“Of…?”

“Of, well…”

Seung-gil shakes his head rapidly. “I don’t really care,” he says, and it’s surprisingly not a lie. Why start caring about public opinion now of all times, anyway?  “Come on, just take the picture before I change my mind.”

Phichit hooks an arm around his waist to pull him into the frame. Every fiber of Seung-gil’s body is ready to pull away from the sudden touch. Instead, he leans in.

“Hey, Seung-gil, look.”

“Mm?”

“Snapchat has that cute dog filter right now.” 

"...Hmph."

* * *

_T hose pictures you took with seung gil were really cute_

_ Victor got hurt that you didn’t send them to him too though _

_ Also he seems to be taking credit for whatever it is that happened between you two? _

_ What a handful haha. _

_ At least seung gil didn’t strip naked. _

_ Oh, victor’s telling me to tell you that makkachin also approves _

_ For whatever that’s worth. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday, Seung-gil.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anyone else find it harder to motivate themselves to write when the weather is super hot? ...Just me?

Seung-gil feels like a dog dragged along on a leash when Phichit grabs his hand and pulls him up flight of stairs after flight of stairs. He’s barely even sure where they are at this point, his mind unable to catch up to the last several minutes of his life. It seems more likely that he had overindulged in alcohol the night prior and died than that what was currently happening could even be true. And yet when he reaches the top, breathing heavily and legs trembling from the exertion, Phichit is still there with him, grinning through his own shallow breaths.

“Sorry, I got overexcited,” Phichit says, though he looks far from apologetic. “Apparently Yuuri sometimes runs up here to train. I didn’t realize it was going to be quite that steep.” He lets go of Seung-gil’s hand and places both hands on his shoulders, swiveling him around to behold the sprawling sight of Hasetsu’s waterfront. “Nice view, isn’t it?”

Seung-gil can think of at least one other _nice view_ he’d rather be looking at right now. “It’s nice,” he agrees between breaths. “Pretty.” He’s a skater, not a sightseer or a connoisseur of fine arts, so he doesn’t know what else to say. “...Quiet.”

Phichit nods. “That last bit is why I thought it would be a good place to talk,” he agrees, guiding Seung-gil to a bench and sitting down next to him. “Right?”

“Talk about what?”

Phichit rolls his eyes. “You know, having a relationship,” he says without missing a beat and without a hint of anxiety on his face. “You and me, going out.”

Considering that it's the middle of winter, Seung-gil is unnaturally warm. “There’s nothing to talk about,” he says curtly, which translates to _I have no idea what to say_.

“Yes there is,” he insists. “Things like: boundaries, how this is even gonna work once we go home. How many cute pictures of you I’m allowed to post online. How many times I’m allowed to text you in a row before you turn your phone off, how to get on your dog’s good side if I ever visit you.”

Seung-gil squints at him. “Some of that was a joke… I think? I hope.”

“I guess?” Phichit shrugs. “I just, well -” Now he definitely looks uncomfortable, and Seung-gil feels a twinge of guilt. “I dunno, I thought it would be better to openly talk about stuff, but if it’s too weird, um -”

Seung-gil shakes his head. “No, it’s just - I -” His throat closes, his train of thought stalls. “I - well -” Normally he would begin doing mental math to distract himself during times of stress, but right now it seems like a cheap escape from his misgivings when nothing seems to be adding up (so to speak). “I like being your friend,” he mutters lamely. “Also, I - I like... _you_. I want both things.” There _has_ to be a better way to phrase that. “I dislike the thought of - of completely changing our relationship, just because we're. Uh. Together?”

“That’s fine,” Phichit says immediately. “I’m not asking you to get married tomorrow. I just don’t wanna accidentally do something that makes you uncomfortable, you know? Just promise that you’ll tell me if I do.”

He nods slowly.

Phichit leans in slightly, watching him with those perceptive, pretty eyes of his; Seung-gil wonders if his eyelashes are naturally that pretty or if he’s wearing makeup of some sort. Probably both. “...Will you not freak out if I ask you something?”

“No promises.”

A chuckle. “There’s that honesty again. I was just wondering if you’d be bothered if I held your hand. You seem like you don’t like people touching you that much, so, um -”

Wordlessly, Seung-gil takes Phichit’s hand in his own and laces their fingers together.

“O-oh, I see.” Now Phichit is blushing, too.

The other’s sudden bashful expression causes Seung-gil to exhale a huff of laughter. “You were holding my hand the whole time you dragged me up here, you know.”

“I know, but -” There’s an adorable pout on Phichit’s face, and Seung-gil thinks maybe it would be a worthwhile endeavor to practice teasing him more often. “That was sort of against your will, wasn’t it?”

“No, I was fine with it.”

“Okay, good.” He leans in slightly, their shoulders brushing together. “That okay?”

“Are you seriously going to ask me every time you move an inch closer?”

Phichit laughs, squeezing his hand. “Sorry, I don’t mean to imply you’re skittish or anything.”

Normally Seung-gil wouldn’t consider himself much for banter, preferring to keep to himself rather than waste time engaging in quippy exchanges, yet somehow it comes so easily when he’s with Phichit. “I seduced you with dancing, didn’t I? And I was touching you then.”

Phichit taps his chin with mock understanding. “Oh, you’re totally right, my bad. I guess I underestimated your deep lust for me.”

He snorts again at the absurdity of the word _lust_ applied to him in any context. “I expected this going rather differently,” he muses. “But I find you quite easy to talk to.”

“I don’t wanna make things complicated.” Another squeeze of his hand. “I just like talking to you, and I think you’re cute.”  Before Seung-gil can retort with indignation, Phichit rapidly diverts the subject, something he seems to be quite adept at. “Hey, if I bought you clothes, would you wear them? ...Hypothetically.”

“Depends on the clothes,” Seung-gil replies warily.

“A sparkly thong and nothing else.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Sorry, a _rainbow_ sparkly thong.”

Seung-gil flicks him in the forehead.  “I didn’t know you had such depraved fantasies. I had no idea what I was getting into - you’re dangerous.”

He laughs. “I’m not going to buy you a thong, geez. Don’t worry, I’ll come up with something more tasteful.”

“Almost anything would be.”

“I wish we had time to go shopping,” Phichit says, ignoring the snark. “Or do anything, really. Travel to a different, bigger city. I’ve always wanted to experience Tokyo nightlife with friends, hit up a bunch of arcades and photo booths, and sing really obnoxious karaoke afterwards.”

“Sounds too loud for my tastes,” Seung-gil says. “And I do not consider myself a very skilled singer, for that matter.”

Phichit rolls his eyes. “It’s not about being a good singer, it’s about everyone singing badly, together. Have you really never gone out and done karaoke before?”

“I often bow out of events that make me uncomfortable,” he admits. “And in the past, I never really had a group to go with.”

Phichit looks at him with sympathy. “Hard time making friends?”

It’s not said in a judgmental manner, but Seung-gil wants to deny it nonetheless, and shakes his head. “I haven’t put much effort into that in the past, so I suppose I don’t know how that would go.” Even now it amazes him how easily he can be honest with Phichit. “Perhaps we can go someday. I’ll… steel myself.”

“Sure,” Phichit agrees. “We can drag along Yuuri and Victor, and Leo and Guang Hong, and it can be a triple date.”

“Leo and Guang Hong, are they actually…” Seung-gil pauses, cautious. “Together?”

To his surprise, Phichit shrugs. “I’m not sure they even know one way or the other. Either way, I’d support them. And if not, well - it could be just a friend date, and that'd be fun, too.”

Seung-gil nods. “Mm. Although, I’m not so sure they would want me sullying their social events with you. I get a rather strange sense Guang Hong is... mildly afraid of me.”

“You’re not very approachable sometimes,” Phichit agrees without missing a beat. “But part of it’s just his nerves too, so don’t worry too much about it. He'll come around. Hey, speaking of people we could invite, we could get JJ to come along, too, with his girlfriend.”

“No.”

“Aren’t you guys friends, though?” He gives Seung-gil a knowing look that infuriates him. “It was nice to see you two getting along at Yuuri’s dinner.”

" _Getting along?_  Absolutely not."

Phichit prods him in the side. "I can sense friendships from a mile away, don't even test me. I have like a sixth sense for that, and I saw you two getting along, so I know you must be friends."

Seung-gil scowls. “Can we stop talking about it? Discussing JJ isn’t really my idea of a hot date.”

Phichit snorts. “I can’t believe you just said ‘hot date.””

“ _Hot date,_ ” Seung-gil repeats stubbornly, cheeks flaring up.

The grin on Phichit’s face widens. “You two seem like you get along really well, though. Weirdly enough.”

He purses his lips. “I suppose.” That’s about as much endorsement as Jean-Jacques Leroy is ever going to get from him, thank you very much.

"Okay, I get it, we can stop talking about it."

For a long while, Seung-gil remains thoughtful, gaze alternating between the person next to him and the water stretched out before them. Phichit eyes him curiously but keeps the quiet intact, swinging his legs back and forth on the bench beside him. Seung-gil isn't sure if the silence is comfortable or awkward, but what he does know is that he has no words (or formulas) to properly express the combination of anxiety and elation coursing through him, as if it were simultaneously experiencing both a fatal disease and its cure. When he feels any wave of relief, it is quickly replaced by inadequacy, which in turn is overridden by giddiness that then turns to fear. If he were a laptop computer, he would have overheated and crashed a long time ago.

“I'm sober,” he says eventually, and the words feel disembodied somehow.

“H-huh?” The incongruity takes Phichit aback. “Well, yeah?”

Then Seung-gil’s hands are on Phichit’s shoulders, and Seung-gil flinches (why does _he_ flinch when he's the one initiating the action?), and Phichit’s expression is one of confusion and understanding all at once.

This time when Seung-gil kisses him, there's no confidence behind the act whatsoever, none of that drunken desperation and bravado he'd so shamefully displayed the night before. He's hyper aware of his heart beating fast to the point of nausea, his limbs shaking, that tiny ink blot of self doubt threatening to seep through his mind and stain his thoughts until there's nothing else left. Phichit wraps one arm around his waist, and it simultaneously comforts and frightens him. If asked afterward if he remembered what that kiss felt like, Seung-gil knew he wouldn't remember a single sensation other than overwhelming fear.

He pulls away, embarrassed beyond the point of communication.

"Seung-gil?"

"Y-yeah?"

"You're... a much better kisser when you're drunk."

"Oi!"

Phichit gives him a crooked smile. “I'm pulling your leg. But, um. You can calm down a little -”

"I'm scared," Seung-gil blurts.

“I know,” Phichit says gently.

To Seung-gil's immense relief, this time Phichit initiates the contact, and it's a lot warmer, a lot easier for Seung-gil to receive and accept it than to seek it out himself - though, he’s still not quite sure he does much of anything. How his descent into infatuation in the past few days had been so fast still baffles him, but he decides it doesn’t have to make sense. There’s a cute boy who likes him and is kissing him, neither of them are drunk, and no one’s around to take pictures of them to post online. _Three for three._

Phichit’s smiling cheerfully when they pull apart, almost too casually, but that’s just the way he is, and Seung-gil’s mind is at ease. “Feeling any better?”

“I’m all right,” he replies, a reply that's almost tragically mild considering the situation.

The other’s gaze drops to the bench almost shyly, giving Seung-gil another good look at Phichit’s criminally perfect eyelashes and eyeliner (yes, he’s _definitely_ wearing makeup - which is also _definitely_ a positive, he decides). “Back at the party - that was my first kiss, you know.”

“...R-really?”

Clearly Seung-gil had seemed a bit too surprised, because now Phichit is squinting at him suspiciously. “Yep. I mean, I’ve never dated and I’m usually the sober one at parties to take care of my friends so I haven’t had any…” He flashes a grin. “ _Mishaps._ What about you, huh?”

“What _about_ me?” Seung-gil echoes challengingly, but he glances away towards the horizon nonetheless, wishing a wave would come crashing upon the bench and whisk him out to sea so he didn't have to answer that question.

“Kissing,” Phichit insists in an urgent voice that makes Seung-gil want to do it again.

A sigh. “Yeah, I, uh - um. Yeah. Never sober, though. I don’t really want to talk about it, but I’ve been told… I have… issues. When I’m drunk.” Oh, how he wants to die - and just when this interaction was getting more comfortable, too. “Apparently once at a skating after-party I - I kissed one of my peers in front of everyone. My coach had to apologize for me after the fact because I was too drunk to remember anything. It was quite an unfortunate way for everyone to discover my, uh. ...Preferences.”

Phichit leans in for a quick hug that crushes both Seung-gil’s waist and his pride. “Sounds like you’ve had a rough time,” he says. “You don’t have to repress yourself around me, you know.”

“I do know,” Seung-gil agrees - that much is certain. “And I’m not _repressed_ ,” he adds hastily, a bit too delayed to be convincing.

Phichit laughs softly. “Sorry, sorry. But, I actually like that side of you. N-not being repressed,” he amends, “but your... _secret hidden drunken past._ ”

“Don’t put it like that.”

He ignores the protest. “I like that you've got some craziness in there. Someday I wanna get drunk with you,” Phichit says. “I was pretty boring the other night, I think.”

“You were just being responsible,” Seung-gil assures him, a little self-conscious about the insinuation.

He shrugs. “Hey, tell you what - next time we go out with Yuuri and Victor, I’ll get super drunk and make out with you so passionately that they’ll be jealous.”

“It doesn’t need to be a competition!” Seung-gil yelps, scandalized, and Phichit laughs. Seung-gil thinks he will never get tired of Phichit’s laughter, even when that laughter is somewhat at his expense.

They sit in silence for another moment, Phichit’s hand casually draped over Seung-gil’s own on the bench. “When are you going to the airport tomorrow?”

The word _airport_ has never sounded so poisonous, a ticking time bomb to remind him yet again of the limited time they have in one another's presence. “...I’d have to check. What about you?”

“My flight is around 10:30,” Phichit says.

“That should work out rather nicely,” Seung-gil says cautiously. “If I remember correctly, my flight’s around noon. We could… go to the airport together?”

Immediately Phichit brightens. “Mm - yeah! I’d really like that. Just a little more time to spend with you. Definitely not complaining! That timing works out better than I'd thought it would. I'm kinda relieved - I didn’t want to say goodbye to you that early.”

 _Goodbye_ \- now there’s a word heavier than even _airport._ “I’m glad, too.”

In reality, Seung-gil’s declaration of his approximate flight time had been an utter lie. _Around noon?_ He’s not the kind of person to forget a numerical detail like that, and he knows his flight was set to board at precisely 7:10 pm. Was it worth the lie to spend over seven hours in the airport by himself just to squeeze in a little more time with Phichit? Absolutely. Is Phichit the kind of person who would insist he not waste his time like that if he knew the truth? Seung-gil isn’t sure, but he doesn’t want to take the chance. For him, the potential of an extra couple of hours with Phichit is worth it, considering he has no idea what the future of their attraction will be after their parting.

Seung-gil smiles at Phichit, warmly and fondly and sadly.

“I don’t want to say goodbye to you at all,” Phichit adds in a near-whisper, and the smile vanishes from Seung-gil’s face.

“Then don’t,” he says, unsure what he even means.

Phichit is silent for a moment. “Are you okay with a long distance relationship?”

What’s the right answer? Is Phichit asking because he has second thoughts? In that case, Seung-gil should say _no_ , right? That would help Phichit validate his fears and snuff out this ludicrous adventure before it even begins.

But if that’s the right answer, then it’s certainly not the _honest_ answer.

Begrudgingly he opts for honesty. “I want that. ...Do you want that?”

There’s relief on Phichit’s face, and Seung-gil realizes with equal relief that the honest answer and the right answer had been one and the same all along. “You better video chat with me a lot.”

“Of course.”

“With your dog.”

“...Of course.”

“And I’ll keep relationship stuff off social media, ‘cause I know that sort of public stuff kinda bothers you, yeah?”

Seung-gil is touched that Phichit is thinking of his comfort that acutely. “In turn, I will... try to post more regularly. Or if not post, at least comment - or if not comment, at least like -”

A hand is raised to silence him, and Seung-gil takes the cue and closes his mouth abruptly. “You don’t have to force yourself to do all the social media stuff if you don’t wanna. But I’d like it if you took more selfies and sent them to me privately. Can that be a compromise?”

“I’ll work on my angles,” Seung-gil says, deadpan, and Phichit snorts, snuggling up against his shoulder. “...Send me a lot of pictures, too.”

“Be careful what you wish for,” Phichit says, leaning up to kiss Seung-gil on the cheek, “Seung- _grump_.”

“I calculate all my decisions with extreme care and evaluation, thank you very much. Also, that’s still a terrible nickname.”

“...Seung- _great?_ ”

“Somehow, that’s even worse.”

They both turn in comical unison to glare at one another. Somehow, it’s Seung-gil who cracks first, the laughter shaking his chest and infecting the boy next to him, until both of them are crying so hard they can’t see, their arms wrapped around one another as the only sounds in the air are the birds and the soft waves rippling through the water below them and their mirth.

Together their laughter fades into quiet sighs, before they’re once again leaned up against each other, contemplating the horizon and the distance that is about to stretch out between them - a distance which suddenly seems much smaller.

“...Seung-giggles.”

“Oh, shut up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! I think this may be one of the longest chapters, so I guess that makes up for it? (Justifications.)


	18. Chapter 18

Seung-gil has been in a relationship for all of several _hours_ , and already the worst part of officially dating Phichit is - by _far_ \- having to hear about it from JJ.

Not knowing what to do when they parted, Seung-gil had first texted Yuuri, who congratulated him by sending him a photo of Makkachin’s cheerful face. After giving him permission to break the news to Victor, Seung-gil had returned to his hotel room in a daze to pack. But as usual, his plans to _live his goddamn life in peace_ had been thwarted by the omnipresent maple-scented nuisance who had wedged himself into his personal affairs like a doorstop; in fact, he quite literally would not let Seung-gil close the door to his hotel room until he was allowed inside.

Now Seung-gil stands awkwardly next to his half-packed suitcase, bracing himself for a conversation he would rather die than have.

“I’m so happy for you guys! Really, I mean it. It makes me feel good that I was such a great wingman. Not to pat myself on the back on the anything, but hey. The King really does know what he’s talking about sometimes, eh, Seung-gil?”

Seung-gil faces the Canadian with what he _hopes_ is a judgmental expression. “Wingman? You did absolutely nothing to help the situation progress, _Jean._ ”

JJ’s beaming pride quickly morphs into a sour scowl, and Seung-gil smirks. He had experienced a sudden epiphany after Phichit’s barrage of annoying nicknames, which was that people truly do not like to have nicknames forcibly bestowed upon them without prior approval. Of course, this revelation inspired Seung-gil to start calling JJ something unwanted to get on his nerves, and by some miracle it had actually succeeded right off the bat. Point for Seung-gil Lee, Korean skating legend. Take that, egomaniac with a tramp stamp from the land of syrup.

“Dude, that’s so much less… _catchy_ than JJ,” the Canadian whines. The pleading has the opposite effect of what JJ desires, and Seung-gil grows even more smug. “Couldn’t you have given me a more flattering nickname?

“ _It’s Jean Style,_ ” Seung-gil replies defiantly, and raises his hands in JJ’s signature pose - purposely backwards. “Because you are an incontestable loser,” he clarifies unnecessarily.

JJ’s scowl deepens as Seung-gil shoves the two Ls into his face. “Your boyfriend’s sass is rubbing off on you. I take back my support of you. Asshole.”

“That’s my line.”

“I’m taking back my impending offer to have you be best man at my wedding with ‘Bella.”

“That’s not an honor I would have wanted anyway.”

The two have reached an impasse of snarkiness, and they lock eyes. Seung-gil feels as though he’s been suddenly transported into a cheesy Western film, in which they’re both going to draw guns and duke it out as a lone tumbleweed rolls by. He can’t read JJ’s expression at all, and wonders if he’s legitimately offended the other - and to his great dismay, he feels an actual pang of guilt. JJ is the last person he ever wants to have warm sentiment towards. Maybe he should break up with Phichit already, if just being around the guy is making him this soft.

Before he can formulate what most likely would have been an awkward and upsettingly genuine apology, JJ steps forward and pulls Seung-gil into the most spine-crushing embrace he’s ever experienced.

“I’m gonna miss your shitty attitude,” JJ whispers into his ear, and for the life of him Seung-gil can’t decide whether the statement is supposed to be heartwarming or insulting.

“Uh-huh,” Seung-gil wheezes out through what he’s sure by now are collapsing lungs.

Mercifully, JJ lets him go.”But seriously, man, keep in touch. At least a little bit?”

“Maybe.”

“If you send me pictures of your dog, I’ll… say he’s cute?”

He has to laugh at that one. “I already know that, but I’ll think about it.”

JJ immediately brightens, and Seung-gil has to wonder how devoid of friends JJ must be to seem so excited about contact from Seung-gil of all people. “If you’re ever in the area, we should hang.”

“ _The area?_ ”

“You know… up north.”

“Oh. Like… where you live.” For some reason actually saying the word _Canada_ in this conversation feels like it would give JJ unspeakable power. “Why would I ever be up there?”

“For a competition, maybe?” JJ insists. “I’ll buy you dinner… or something?” When Seung-gil doesn’t answer, his lips twitch into a pout. “C’mon, at least consider it.”

Hesitantly, Seung-gil nods. “All right. Same to you, if you’re ever… in… _my area_.”

“Wait - now you’re offering to buy _me_ dinner?”

“No, I’m offering for you to buy _me_ dinner if you ever come to Korea,” Seung-gil says flatly, which gets a laugh out of JJ. “Now stop pushing your luck.”

JJ scans the room, nodding knowingly at the open suitcase on Seung-gil’s bed. “Leaving in the morning?”

“Mm,” Seung-gil replies, and the mood instantly shifts into something a bit more somber. “I guess.”

“Don’t wanna go back home, huh?”

Seung-gil considers this. Besides his dog, there’s not much happiness waiting for him in Korea. Upon his return, he will have to resume training for the Pyeongchang Olympics - and with that, resume his friendless and nonexistent social life. He’ll only be able to talk to his boyfriend over video calls, he won’t be able to sit with Yuuri and bond over Makkachin, and JJ won’t be randomly bursting into his room to give him a hard time. It will be… lonely, that much is for certain. “Not particularly,” he admits.

JJ looks back at him with sympathy. “Phichit will absolutely keep in touch with you,” he says. “That guy’s a nut when it comes to keeping up with social media, so I’m sure messaging someone he really cares about will be no sweat.”

“I didn’t ask you,” Seung-gil mutters, though the other’s words actually do comfort him a bit. _Ugh._ “But, uh. ...Thanks.”

“Sorry? I didn’t quite catch that.”

“ _Thanks_ ,” Seung-gil spits, irritation rising.

JJ blinks back at him with the fakest innocence Seung-gil has ever had the misfortune to lay eyes on. “One more time?”

“Fuck you.”

* * *

Seung-gil is not a morning person. Unfortunately, Phichit is impossibly cheerful from the time they meet up in the morning to their arrival at the airport, chattering to fill the silence. Somehow Seung-gil finds himself not very irritated with the constant noise, but at the same time it’s quite difficult to focus on any specific words. Between the sleepiness and anxiety about leaving Phichit, how could he? He can hardly bring himself to even smile politely as Phichit speaks, much less engage with him; it will only serve to remind him what he'll be lacking in less than a few hours' time.

By the time they pass through the security checkpoint at the airport and sit down at Phichit’s gate, Seung-gil finally decides to put the brakes on this one-sided conversation before he loses track of what’s going on entirely. “Phichit.”

He stops abruptly. “Yeah?”

“I haven’t been listening to a word you’ve said the past five minutes,” Seung-gil admits. “I started thinking about being in a relationship again and spaced out. Sorry. Also, I think you’re cute,” he adds, a lame attempt at damage control.

A crooked smile stretches across Phichit’s face. “Geez, you’re hopeless. At least you’re honest. It wasn’t anything too important anyway - just talking to myself, really.”

“I’m sure since it’s you, it must have been important,” Seung-gil replies in what’s probably a very misguided attempt at being smooth considering he’d just been ignoring his boyfriend.  “I’ll get better, I promise. I just -”

Phichit raises a finger to Seung-gil’s lips. “And I’ll try to get better at slowing myself down and listening, too. We’ll work it out together, okay?”

“You say you’ll try to get better at listening, but you just cut me off,” Seung-gil says, the blunt honesty spilling from his lips before he remembers to reign in his words.

“”So harsh!” Phichit laughs. “Oh, Seung-gil - your boarding pass fell out of your bag.” He leans down to pick up the folded paper lying beside their suitcases, and Seung-gil flinches, remembering he’d told Phichit his flight left at noon so it didn’t seem as strange to wait around the airport for so long. As much as he mentally wills Phichit to not look at it, the psychic effort is for naught, and Seung-gil swallows as Phcihit’s eyes scan the document, his expression shifting from confusion to mild irritation (both of which Seung-gil finds cute and a little bit intimidating). “Your plane isn’t leaving till way later,” Phichit says accusingly. “You said it was leaving at like, noon.”

“Yeah,” Seung-gil replies, unsure how to counter the clearly true allegation.

He sighs. “It wouldn’t have made me mad if you hadn’t come with me to the airport, you know.”

Seung-gil shakes his head, almost irked that he’s being misrepresented in such a manner - though he has no right to be, considering he’d pretty much lied to Phichit in the first place. “I know that. But I wanted to. I thought you might try to convince me not to if you knew.”

Phichit is silent for a moment, chewing his lip and looking as though he’s considering what kind of emotional response to display. In the end, he decides on ruffling Seung-gil’s hair. “I appreciate that you’re here. But you don’t need to overthink things so much. If you’d just told me you wanted to come along, I’d have been flattered that you wanted to spend your time like that. I wouldn’t say no to hanging out with you more, you know.”

As usual, Seung-gil had flubbed reading a social situation properly. It frustrates him that a thought process that had seemed logical at the time now appears more than a little ridiculous when Phichit lays it out in such simple words. “Sorry,” Seung-gil says, eyes fixating on the gate number rather than Phichit’s face. “I thought you might think it was somewhat clingy of me to follow you here when -”

Seung-gil stops abruptly as Phichit presses an index finger against his lips. “It hasn’t even been a day, Seung-gil. How could you be clingy?” The other sighs, an uncharacteristically melancholy settling over his face. “We’re not going to see each other for a while in person, anyway… I’d rather spend as much time with you as I can.” When Seung-gil remains silent, a pout curls Phichit’s lips. “The point is, don’t just make up excuses just to hang out with me more! I _want_ to hang out with you. Excuses aren’t necessary.” With one hand he sternly but gently smacks the back of Seung-gil’s head, a lighthearted reprimand.

“Okay, okay. I get it,” Seung-gil mutters, leaving out the insecure follow-up of _I’m not used to people actually wanting to hang out with me._ “I have a late flight but I came with you to the airport because I wanted to see you off.”

“Isn't it a bit late to admit that? I mean, that’s pretty cute, but you should have just said it in the first place,” Phichit says, rolling his eyes. “Hopeless.”

“I don’t know how to be cute,” Seung-gil protests, warmth creeping through his cheeks.

The other grins. “You don’t need to know how. You just do it naturally.”

There’s no way for Seung-gil to protest without stammering, so he’s almost relieved when the attendant at the gate begins calling numbers for boarding.

...Almost, but not quite. That unfamiliar dread regarding his impending separation from Phichit overrides his relief at being spared from embarrassment, and he berates himself for not knowing what to say as Phichit rises from his seat, gathering his belongings deliberately as though waiting for Seung-gil to say something.

“Phichit.”

“Hmm?”

Shakily he too stands, though he barely manages the motion through limbs locked with nerves. Without a word he pulls Phichit into a quick hug, relishing the warmth of the smaller boy’s body. It’s only quick because he’s afraid he won’t let go if he lingers any longer, and then Phichit will miss his flight - which he wouldn’t complain about, but even Seung-gil knows logically they both have to go home. Not even his feelings can justify doing otherwise.

Both of them are blushing slightly when they pull apart.

“If we weren’t in public, I’d kiss you right now,” Seung-gil admits grumpily, looking away.

Phichit chuckles. “We’ll have other chances in the future,” he says, and the word  _future_ eases Seung-gil’s mind more than anything else could have. “I better go, though. My hamsters are waiting for me back home.” A mischievous glint flickers in his eyes. “Hope they’re not too jealous when I tell them I have a boyfriend now.”

Just barely, Seung-gil manages to smile through his distress. “Take lots of pictures.”

“It’s me - do you even have to ask? I'm gonna spam your phone as soon as I get the chance.”

Seung-gil sighs and shakes his head, feigning exasperation. “Whatever." Not-so-secretly, he's looking forward to the picture spam, of course. "Have a safe trip.”

“Keep me updated too, okay? ...Seung-grump.”

Seung-gil huffs. “Just for that, I won’t.”

But of course, he will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember when I actually made myself update this? Me neither.
> 
> Sorry I haven't posted any of this since the summer, I... don't know why that is. I hope your winter months are slightly warmed by whatever this is, and that you have a good end of the year? I don't know. It's been a while since I tried to force myself to make relevant comments.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seung-gil/Phichit's Instagram contest is a reference to this fic: http://archiveofourown.org/works/9332033 that I always intended to weave into this one somehow and finally got around to referencing.

“Seung-gil, your dog’s face is taking up the whole camera again. I can’t see you.”

The ears of the husky perk up at the sound of Phichit’s voice, and the dog glances around the room eagerly, hoping to finally meet his owner's disembodied conversation partner. Seung-gil snorts, idly scratching the dog under his chin, and gently pushes his muzzle out of the trajectory of his laptop’s webcam. By this point in his relationship with Phichit, setting up the camera has become a practiced ritual; Seung-gil places his computer in his lap to Skype with Phichit, his dog recognizes the act and trots over to lie on top of his legs in bed, and his long-distance boyfriend is met with a faceful of canine when he picks up the call.

“He gets excited because he recognizes your voice,” Seung-gil says apologetically. “And I can tell he can register your face on the screen, too. Some dogs are quite astute at picking up on that. I bet he’d recognize you in person, too, if you ever visited.”

Phichit pouts, a childish expression that never ceases to amuse Seung-gil. “I’m flattered that your dog knows who I am and all, but I'm calling because I wanna see _your_ face, you know.”

Seung-gil tilts the camera experimentally until the majority of the image is his own face and not that of his pet (though in his opinion, the dog is much cuter and more photogenic than he is). “That should be better.”

The other nods. "Yep. You know, every time I see someone walking their dog now, I think of you. The other day, I saw some walking a big husky from a distance and for a second I legit thought you had come all the way to Thailand to surprise me somehow. But then I realized the owner was an older man and you're way hotter."

"Gee, thanks." Seung-gil rolls his eyes, trying - and failing - to fight the heat flushing his cheeks.

"I asked him if I could pet his dog," Phichit continues, “and we talked for a little. He was really proud of that husky. It made me miss you a lot."

The last bit surprises him a little. "Really? But we talk all the time," Seung-gil says. "And it's not like we'll never see each other in person again. In fact, we very easily could wind up in the same skating bracket for a future competition - though I don’t suppose that would be the most relaxing reunion."

Phichit sighs. "Not that I don't like talking to you or anything, but I wanna be able to do silly cliche couple stuff with you, too. Like snuggling up watching movies or going out and sharing ice cream together or playing with your hair."

"I don't like people touching my hair."

"You wouldn't let _me?_ Your own boyfriend?"

"...All right, I probably would," Seung-gil admits. "Only if it was you, though. But that's the downside of doing this long distance, isn't it? Nothing can be done about that. It'd be nice to be in the same room, I suppose, but when I see and hear you on my screen, it's like you're here anyway... mostly."

"Aw, was that supposed to be romantic?"

"No, I was just stating the facts."

Phichit sticks out his tongue. "Still, that's no fair. The only time I got to snuggle with you was when you were sick and didn't even realize it."

"I can't believe you purposely made me sick just to have an excuse sleep in my bed with me," Seung-gil deadpans. "You demon."

"You got me," Phichit says. "I'm actually an incubus."

"Then I'm glad this relationship is long distance," Seung-gil retorts, though it’s only somewhat true. They had agreed on some simple ways to keep up with one another, and so far Seung-gil doesn’t feel overwhelmed by the terms and Phichit isn’t filled with an unbearable amount of longing (as far as he knows). Still, sometimes even mildly misanthropic Seung-gil finds himself wishing for a physical presence beside him.

Just the other day Seung-gil had been idly flipping through boring television channels and had landed on a dog show. Almost by reflex, he had turned to address Phichit without thinking - _I have mixed feelings about dog shows in general, but on a base level I enjoy looking at the prototypes of the different breeds, though I fear my own dog gets slightly jealous when I do -_ before remembering his boyfriend wasn’t physically there. Texting him just hadn’t felt the same in that moment, and his mood had been slightly soured for quite a while afterwards.

“Yeah, whatever,” Phichit says with a roll of his eyes, but Seung-gil knows neither of them find the distance optimal. Workable, but not ideal. “Anyway -" And there goes his boyfriend mercifully changing the subject again so neither of them sink into a long distance depression - "did you see that cute picture Mila posted to Instagram of Yuri befriending those stray kittens outside the ice rink? I swear, he’s like a cat whisperer or something.”

“If I never saw another picture of Yuri with cats again, I think I’d live,” Seung-gil replies dryly.

An annoyingly knowing smile begins to stretch across Phichit’s face. “You’re not still mad about losing our contest, are you?”

“Of course I’m not,” Seung-gil barks far too quickly, which may as well have been confirmation that he _is_ still fairly bitter, and Phichit knows it.

The “contest” in question had been one Phichit proposed about a month prior after a playful argument regarding which of their pets would be most popular on Instagram. Seung-gil insisted that the fervor of dog lovers would elevate his canine to victory, whereas Phichit had believed that he could easily overtake Seung-gil’s number of likes by winning over the hearts of the public with adorable photos of his hamsters. Seung-gil had intended for the competition to be a one-on-one between himself and Phichit, but true to the nature of the social media bandwagon, the other skaters joined in on the challenge and had begun spamming their own animal photos over the course of the week. In the end, Otabek had won the competition by stealthily posting a series of popular candid photos of Yuri with cats. Apparently the _Ice Tiger of Russia_  had a greater following than Seung-gil could ever have imagined.

_Objectively, though… dogs are still the cutest._

“I still can’t believe JJ took a photo of himself with a _wild_ moose,” Seung-gil scoffs. “What a piece of work." Referring to JJ, of course, not the moose. The moose is completely innocent of any wrongdoing. "That should have been an instant disqualification.”

“Do you guys still keep up?”

Seung-gil’s scowl deepens at the question. True to his word, the Canadian menace had not left him alone since the two had returned to their respective countries. At first JJ had simply texted him to ask how his flight had been, to which Seung-gil had replied _Fine._ and promptly turned off his phone. But ever since then, JJ had been sending him a slew of annoying texts, from incomprehensible Canadian humor - the hell is Tim Hortons, anyway? - to completely irrelevant queries thrown at him with no preamble ( _i know its really late but i just woke up in the middle of the night wondering if otters slide around on their backs on the ice when the water freezes over. do you know if they do? you seem like the kind of guy who would know that._ ). The worst part is that there's no predictable schedule to the barrage, and therefore Seung-gil has to live in constant fear of being bombarded by JJ’s Canadian shower thoughts. Still, the conversations aren't  _entirely_ loathsome, and he _does_ respond to them…

_Ugh._

“A bit,” Seung-gil says as nonchalantly as possible. “Though I’d much rather drain my social battery talking to you.”

“Aw, how sweet. But really, I’m glad you guys still talk. Sounds like you guys kinda became friends when we were in Hasetsu.”

Seung-gil remains stubbornly silent on the matter.

“Ah, but speaking of talking to me -” Phichit cuts himself off a bit sheepishly before starting up again: “I just remembered I should probably get off... I have practice really early tomorrow, and -"

Seung-gil raises a hand to silence him. "I told you, you don't have to justify it all the time. Besides, we can talk whenever. Just get some rest, okay?"

"Sorry, force of habit," Phichit says, which is true; he's apologized every time he's had to get off call, to the point where Seung-gil practically has to beg him to not feel so guilty. "I'll talk to you tomorrow, though, okay? I promise."

He nods. "I'm a bit tired myself, so it's fine."

"Oh yeah, I forget it's two hours later where you are. Don't tell me you stayed up this late just to talk to me, Seung-gil."

Seung-gil rolls his eyes, because this is at _least_ the tenth time Phichit has teased him for doing exactly that. "Maybe I did."

"Does that mean maybe you didn't? I'm hurt."

"I should just hang up on you."

Phichit laughs. "'Night, Seung-gil. Give your dog lots of kisses for me."

"I always do. Goodnight." 

The screen goes blank, and as usual the oppressive silence hits him hardest directly after a video call. As much as he loves talking to Phichit at night - and Seung-gil is not a man who uses the word  _loves_ lightly - it always takes some time for him to adjust to being alone afterwards. His usual logical mental mantras that had once helped him fall asleep have long since ceased being effective against his loneliness, and some nights he finds himself staring at the ceiling instead of sleeping, or even idly scrolling through Instagram comments and photos, a habit he has picked up much more obsessively now that his boyfriend's cute selfies are the reward.

"I miss him,” Seung-gil says out loud once his laptop is shut.

His dog whines, nuzzling into his shoulder.

"That's a good sign, right? That means I truly l-"

_Bzzt._

He practically lunges forward to snatch his phone off his pillow.

There's one text, from Phichit.

_dont stay up too late thinking of me~_

Seung-gil is glad no one but his dog is around to see the grin on his face, illuminated by the backlight of his phone.

_Don't be ridiculous. Goodnight._

He ends his text with a dog emoji followed by a hamster emoji, which has become his signature flourish when signing off with Phichit. Several months ago, Seung-gil never would have dreamed of consistently texting another person, much less using cutesy emojis in his own correspondence. 

Now, like everything else, it just feels right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somehow, posting this both makes me sad and relieved. I never expected this fic to get as much response as I did - honestly, I started writing this almost as a joke after watching the first episode Seung-gil was in. "Hey, these two characters who have never interacted would have a great personality dynamic! Might as well torture myself with another rarepair." I think what surprised me the most was... how many other people I tortured along the way? In a good way, I think... I hope.
> 
> Everyone who's reached out to me has made my day each and every time. The fact that people drew things blew my mind, but the fact that people literally said I got them into this ship and helped them make friends in the Yuri on Ice community blows my mind even more. I think the moral here is that everyone should follow their fic dreams no matter how absurd they seem, even if you believe no one will ever care about some niche thing you feel like you're pulling out of thin air. As a writer especially, some of the greatest successes you have are completely by accident.
> 
> Big fandoms can be overwhelming and stressful at times, and I'm just so infinitely grateful that everyone's been kind to me.
> 
> I love Seung-gil and I hope if/when more content is released (which inevitably will invalidate the canon of this fic and make me cringe forever) that he gets more screen time. And you can bet if he does, I'll be here writing about it.
> 
> Woof.


End file.
